


Amaranthine

by zetswbo



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, All characters will suffer, Angst, Bisexuality, Blood, Comedy, Dark and mature themes, Explicit Language, F/M, Harassment, High School, Horror, I'm Sorry, Mild Gore, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), Pansexual Character, Please Don't Hate Me, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Romance, Suspense, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, Trust Issues, Violence, alternative universe, drugs abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26650657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetswbo/pseuds/zetswbo
Summary: Amaranthine. Of untouched and eternal beauty, which would never change. Blossom knew that term like no one, after all, that was how certain red eyes saw it. But, another thing she knew, was that the Universe was in a state of constant flux. Unlike Amaranthine, things tend to change. Ever. And when something changes, other things change together. The flapping of wings of a simple butterfly could influence the natural course of things and, thus, perhaps cause a typhoon on the other side of the world. Then, a simple childhood approach created great chaos in Townsville, and everything changed.When Blossom was younger, she thought that heroes could never retire. Why would they do that? They have the glory, the love. But Blossom also found out too early that a superhero's life is not just about good things, because it also has its bad sides. Sides that she and her sisters were unable to deal with, and they chickened out. Not all glory or love is able to heal all the wounds that a hero gains during his battles. She just didn't know that there was still one who believed in Amaranthine, and in her eternal beauty that would never diminish. Brick Jojo was determined to change that.
Relationships: Boomer/Bubbles Utonium, Brick/Blossom Utonium, Butch/Buttercup Utonium, Butch/Mitch Mitchelson, Mike Believe/Robin Snyder, Mitch Mitchelson/Buttercup Utonium, Ms. Keane/Professor Utonium
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Human beings don't like changes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to Amaranthine.
> 
> Maybe I feel a little nervous now because this is the first time that I have entered the category of Powerpuff Girls, even more away from the ordinary. Generally, when I write for a new category, I always start with a one-shot. But, here I am, with a long-fic that I will leave to write alone. There is also the factor that I am just a Brazilian university student, so English is not my first language. I feel nervous about this, because I am afraid of making mistakes while writing, although I decided to start this project precisely to train and test my English skills. So I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes.
> 
> Apart from the nervousness, I feel excited about the fanfic. The idea has been scratching my mind since it came up innocently while I was going through some fanarts on Tumblr. So I hope it will delight you in the same way that it enchanted me at the first moment. This is also not a smooth reading. I will deal with heavy and obscure topics here, so if you are sensitive to such topics, I ask you not to read on behalf of your own health.
> 
> Before I allow you to reach that first chapter, I wanted to say that I don't have the right day or time for posting chapters, let alone deadlines. I go to college and work correcting CBTs and assignments for universities in the city, so it's difficult to get organized between the work of others and my own to write. Still, I will try to follow a frequency, so please be patient with me, please, okay? : ')
> 
> I... Basically I don't know the formatting of this site well - I'm new here, my account was created today - and I can get a little confused, I apologize for that too. 
> 
> Without further ado, have a good reading. :)

**‹ PROLOGUE ‧** Change one thing and watch

all the other things change at the same time **❜**

**Human beings don't like changes.**  
  
**So,** **maybe I feel h u m a n.**

> ᅟᅟ“ **THERE WAS A TIME,** during an interesting philosophy class in high school, I heard my teacher tell me that in one year, we went through more than thirty million seconds. And, since there are more than thirty million seconds in a year, there are a thousand milliseconds in a second, and a million microseconds, a billion nanoseconds and so on. And the only constant that connects nanoseconds over the years is _change_. At first, I didn't understand what Mr. Kojima meant for his lazy class, but as his class passed, I found myself numb on a funeral island of ideas.

ᅟᅟBasically, I came to the conclusion that the universe, from the atom to the galaxy, is in an infinite state of flux. Everything changes and we don't even realize it. Of course, human beings don't like change. _I_ don't like change. We are always fighting against this, because the slightest change in what is already routine can destabilize us. The change is frightening. So, we create the illusion of ecstasy. We want to believe that the world is at rest; the "now" world. But, this is impossible, so our paradox remains the same. By the time we reach the "now", that "now" is gone. This is because we are always clinging to images, but life itself is built by moving images; because every time we blink, the world changes without us noticing. Every day, every moment, every nanosecond... the world changes. Electrons hit each other and react, people collide and change each other's path.”

> ᅟᅟ **BLOSSOM FELT HER HEAD** bumping into the car window. Her eyes were troubled by the bright sun early in the morning. For a moment, she had forgotten how the weather in California could be... Radiant, although she couldn't say she missed it. To be honest, going back was the last thing she wanted. However, there it was.

ᅟᅟThe car was quiet. No music on the radio and, consequently, no discussion about what they should hear. Certainly, part of the silence came from the fact that Bubbles and Buttercup were already sleeping in the back seat. She tilted her head to the side, watching Professor watch the road as his hands surrounded the steering wheel. Blossom couldn't help noticing how tense he looked, his knuckles already white. However, she only sighed as she noticed the car's slow progress down the road.

ᅟᅟShe leaned back against the window. The coast was beautiful. Watching the waves crashing on the beach made her feel calmer, although it didn't improve much in her mood.

ᅟᅟBlossom allowed a heavy sigh to escape between pink and almost full lips, capturing the cellphone in the backpack shortly thereafter. She retrieved some songs from the playlist, her free hand taking care to position the headphones over her ears. Finally, she leaned against the window again. The car rocked. Blossom watched the waves and the sea. The calm was enough for her to remember... everything.

ᅟᅟShe had never, in fact, forgotten the events that followed during the six months before their departure. _No... We were just running_ , she thought bitterly. She wouldn't know how to qualify whether the six months prior to their escape were the best or the worst, because they were… _finally_ …

ᅟᅟA deep breath was all that was left in the air. With her eyes closed, Blossom went through the usual fragments of old memories, so cunning that, no matter how much she locked herself in the back of her memory, they always managed to escape. And in that moment, Blossom remembered that it was too much... _too much blood_ to be just one person. She remembered the commotion that appeared in the hospital corridor when they tried to invade that wing. She remembered her father yelling at the mayor and Mrs. Bellum about never risking his daughters' lives again for a bunch of ungrateful people. She remembered the darkness of the night and the cold water. She remembered that warm sensation that only enveloped her hand. She remembered the despair, the pain, the laughter, the gleam in his eyes, the infamous jokes.

ᅟᅟShe remembered that, at some point, _she had been happy._

ᅟᅟShe also remembered spending _five years_ of her life trying to forget those little _six months_ of her childhood.

ᅟᅟShe squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath in the failed attempt to wipe away all memories of the rough, callused hand that reached hers while the horizon swallowed the sun. Another deep breath. The air began to be needed as Blossom drowned and despaired of looking up. But the greatest despair always came when she realized that she was alone, floating in a vast sea of dark discoveries.  
  


ᅟᅟ— _Darling_? - The Professor's voice reached Blossom the moment she felt the headphones being pulled out her ears. She turned almost immediately, meeting his dark eyes and a simple, warm smile. - I just wanted to say we're here. You slept.  
  


ᅟᅟShe blinked two or three times, only then was she able to realize that the car was no longer moving. Suddenly, she wondered where on the trip she had slept, and for how long. Without direction, she looked around, just to look at the tall grass that covered the yard and a completely familiar neighborhood. She felt lost for a few seconds.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Thanks for letting me know. - Blossom whispered, but all she received was a nod.

ᅟᅟ— Can you wake your sisters while I open the house? - Her father's hand was already reaching for the doorknob, his voice was kind to Blossom's ears, though still low.

ᅟᅟ— Sure. - She nodded. - Just give me a minute.

**ᅟᅟWITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING ELSE** , Professor left the car and gently leaned against the door, Blossom presumed it was to keep the girls at bay. She pulled out the other earpiece and observed the time on her cell phone. She unbuckled her seat belt, it was still nine forty in the morning... Just over an hour of sleep. She left that aside with the backpack in the car, just to open the back passenger door. Bubbles was hugging the pillow, practically huddled, as she leaned back on the bench. Buttercup, on the other side, was lying on the bench, completely leaning against the door, although she looked serene with her headphones.

ᅟᅟBlossom took Bubbles by the shoulder and shook her slightly. The blonde murmured something and let out a low moan before opening her eyes, trying to locate herself in space. Her sleepy face made the redhead smile softly.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Bloss? - Her voice was low between yawns. - Are we there yet?

ᅟᅟ— We're here. - She, without censure, bothered to fix her hair, her little pigtails messy. - Can you wake up Buttercup for me so we can take things inside?  
  


ᅟᅟBubbles nodded and Blossom took that as enough to get away. A few more steps and she was already opening the trunk. _This is definitely a big exaggeration_ , Utonium knew. They had left a lot of things behind, but the car was packed with closed boxes and other packages, in addition to some suitcases. The magic that Professor Utonium had done to make all those things fit there was still a secret among the sisters.

ᅟᅟThe first thing Blossom took out was her own suitcase. The extra weight was an open denunciation of the amount of clothes she had taken with her, while the sun shone on the pink paint. She stared at the dye for a few seconds before shrugging and paying attention to Buttercup, who was staggering out of the car. She looked dizzy, her hair and clothes disheveled. She had slept through the entire trip.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Humn... Butters? - Bubbles began, hesitant as she curled a lock of wavy hair between her fingers. Buttercup replied with a grunt. - You have dry drool on your face.

ᅟᅟ— Oh, man... - Another grunt before she rubs her hands in exasperation. - I hate this shit.

ᅟᅟ— _Language_. - Blossom muttered as she put her suitcase aside to help Bubbles pull hers. - It's involuntary, Buttercup. Don't worry about it.

ᅟᅟ— You mean you have a scientific explanation for drooling? - She snorted while trying to fix her hair in the reflection of the window.

ᅟᅟ— In fact, the salivary glands in your mouth produce saliva, so when you sleep, all the muscles in your mouth relate to-

ᅟᅟ— You know what? I don't want to hear. - Interrupting her, Buttercup pulled out her own dark suitcase and dragged it across the sidewalk. - _Fuck, nerd._  
  


ᅟᅟBubbles laughed beside Blossom, patting the redhead on the shoulder before leveling the handle on her suitcase. So she started to walk along the curb until she reached the concrete that created the way home.

ᅟᅟ _Our old home._

ᅟᅟBlossom took another deep breath before facing the building. The huge rounded windows allowed her to see a room whose furniture was covered with white sheets - Professor didn't want dust to accumulate on anything. It was the only thing they worried about before leaving Townsville. Of course, your father wanted... That place intact, but Blossom always thought it would be a bad idea. She never wanted a place to return; _it was much more painful._

ᅟᅟThe grass was high and the bushes grew with vines on the walls that were once white, but that now were a depressing gray. She was already able to see Professor sorting out the tasks for each one and believed that, if she was lucky, she could keep the garden. The door, once bright red, now had nothing but a faded rose. A sign was nailed to the lawn, the city should have tried to protect that place. _It was the least they could do._

ᅟᅟProfessor was waiting at the door, so the girls did nothing but follow him - that forced smile brought no comfort to the older of the three. Blossom assessed the interior of the house, feeling flooded with a strange nostalgia. The wooden floor of the entrance hall was covered with dust, more furniture hidden by white sheets. Or almost. The time had not been generous with that place.

ᅟᅟBubbles crossed the space and slid her fingers across the wall before pulling on a cloth that covered the red sofa. A curtain of dust lifted instantly, forcing the blonde to cover her face while coughing. Buttercup noticed Professor pulling the curtains aside and pushing the windows open to allow more air to enter. So she grunted and started helping Bubbles, while Blossom... She looked down the flight of stairs and mentally noted that they looked bigger when she was younger. Then she pulled her suitcase upstairs, deciding that she would take care of this alone and, if they wanted, her sisters could join her when they were done.

ᅟᅟBlossom had a lot of good memories of that place. Her father cooked using a ruffled apron and sang while she and her sisters lay on the living room carpet for yet another film session. It was hours of playing in the bedroom. The only thing that interrupted their family schedules was monsters and villains attacking the city, and for a few years, those were the only things the Utonium family cared about.

ᅟᅟNow, however, all the good memories seemed to have been filled with an uncomfortable emptiness and eminent melancholy. Blossom never wanted to go back to Townsville. She felt too much of a coward for running away, but even more, she felt like a coward for letting go of all those problems even after years. The mere thought of coming back made her stomach churn on more than one occasion in the past; but, she was unable to fight when Professor showed that letter.

ᅟᅟAt that moment, Blossom felt suffocated inside her own home.

**ᅟᅟBLOSSOM CLIMBED UP THE STAIRS**. Venturing into the long-forgotten acquaintance, the slender fingers of the hand she had free slid across the dye on the wall, her slow steps bringing calm progress. Pink eyes roamed the second floor vaguely, advancing to the room she shared with her sisters.

ᅟᅟThe only bed was still there. The space seemed completely empty if compared to her memory of stuffed animals and toys scattered about, the huge box of crayons and painting magazines. She left her suitcase at the door and walked through space, the sounds of her footsteps being muffled. Another sheet hit the floor, but Blossom moved away before being swallowed by the dust. And there it was, the old dressing table with a heart-shaped mirror. The redhead smiled, not really paying attention to her reflection, but flooded with memories of her childhood.

ᅟᅟShe sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress springs creaked with minimal contact. Blossom moved again, listening to the annoying rustle, but that didn't necessarily mean something bad. No, that... reminded her of pajama parties at three, when they got stuffed with sweet things and jumped on the bed. That kind of thing was no longer happening. No, each of the sisters had grown up and acquired a certain kind of... _independence_. She ignored the lack of the telephone that made the direct line to the city and stared at her old bookcase. God, what kind of eleven-year-old girl reads H.P. Lovecraft?

ᅟᅟWith a wistful sigh, she got up and opened the cabinets. They were full of old toys and stuffed animals that stank of mold. Bubbles would definitely not want those back. She pushed her high heels off her feets, feeling quick relief when she finally found herself barefoot. The soles in contact with the fluffy, dusty carpet, Blossom didn't know how Buttercup hadn't yet had an allergy attack. Well, a few more minutes and the sneezing would echo throughout the house.

ᅟᅟThe heels ended up beside the door and the redhead came down the stairs with a calm that she didn't even know she had until she remembered what that house was like. A slow cleaning took place downstairs. Butters had already pulled part of her loose T-shirt to cover her nose while wearing a duster against an antique lamp, but Bubbles was happy to mumble a pop tune after placing a ladder in the center of the living room so she could clean the ceiling fan. Blossom swept the room.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Where's Professor? - She asked, stopping at the first step of the stairs..

ᅟᅟ— In the kitchen. - Bubbles replied, her melodious voice echoing throughout the living room. - Hey, Blossy! You will not believe what I found!

ᅟᅟ— Don't listen to that girl, _sis_. - Buttercup cut the youngest, although she seemed too focused on that lamp, her voice was muffled by the shirt. - She just found a lot of old junk.

ᅟᅟ— Hey?! This is not true! - The blonde crossed her arms after settling on the stairs. Then it started to go down. - I found something very special, for your information. We can see it at dinner!

ᅟᅟ— Hm... Of course. - A sigh, Blossom shrugged. - I'm pretty sure Professor said something about ordering pizza for dinner.  
  


ᅟᅟThe two seemed to celebrate quietly and the older one went to the kitchen. Professor was cleaning the cabinets with another duster.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Oh, hey darling. - He murmured, looking over her shoulder. - Some problem?

ᅟᅟ— I just wanted to know if you already emptied a box. - Blossom quickly captured the pinky and ring of the left hand with the right hand. - I need to get some things up there.

ᅟᅟ— Sure, give me a moment, will you? - Asked before heading out. - I think I put some empty boxes at the entrance to the la- Oh, the lab!  
  


ᅟᅟThe man seemed to remember something extremely important, his exclamation caught the attention of the girls, who followed him downstairs to a completely damp and dark underground facility. Blossom had to struggle to see the steps, but Professor looked so used to it that he didn't even lean against the walls.

ᅟᅟBlossom felt Bubbles chasing her, but Buttercup was already holding the blonde's hand. Then, in a few seconds, the lights came on, revealing the atmosphere of cool colors and .. well, not as empty as expected. The redhead raised her eyebrows as she watched her father come back with his shirt sleeves rolled up and the sparkle in his eyes that could easily compare him to a child happy to win a candy.

ᅟᅟOf course. This was _his_ laboratory. There is nothing more fair than letting him miss that... Even so, that place was still...

ᅟᅟBlossom swallowed when her father's happiness and sparkle in her eyes died the same moment he saw the space behind the main table. Blossom felt her stomach churn at the same time and just didn't put her hurried breakfast at the airport because her sisters were there. And Buttercup and she immediately escorted Bubbles up the stairs while the blonde already had her hands shaking, but as she climbed up, Blossom still made the mistake of looking back.

ᅟᅟProfessor was stopped. His wide eyes stared at the big stain of dried blood on the carpet, the uncomfortable odor entered his nostrils and, at that moment, the redhead thanked mentally for the infiltration that occurred thanks to the leak in the pipes, because, if it weren't for the mold, the smell would be worse.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Professor, let's go up. - She took him by the shoulders and that seemed to make him wake up, because now he opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something. - No problem, just go, okay?

ᅟᅟ— I'm sorry, darling. - He whispered, allowing himself to be guided upstairs by his firstborn. Blossom, as always, would have to fix everything. - I'm really sorry. I should have cleaned it up before we left, but... but the lab.

ᅟᅟ— I said it's okay. - The redhead muttered as she lightly squeezed her father's shoulders in a massage. - Just forget. We'll fix that later. - And so, the laboratory door closed.  
  


ᅟᅟBack in the living room, Buttercup tried to comfort Bubbles while swallowing her own astonishment. She was scared. Of course she was, they... They didn't have time to assimilate everything when- no, _before_... Before they left. God, it was all a mess! Blossom was unable to put her head in place, although the coldness exuding from her impassive expression said otherwise.

ᅟᅟShe wanted to put everything out. She wanted to give up this stupid idea and go back to her home in Kyoto, where people didn't know who they were or that they had those powers. No, it was all... It was stupid! It was stupid and irresponsible! They should have left that damn house for sale and they should have burned that letter.

ᅟᅟBlossom had to control her breathing and closed her eyes for a few seconds, as if it was enough to stabilize herself.

ᅟᅟThey had left it all behind. Not just Townsville, but... everything else. They no longer saved the lives of civilians, because they became imbecile civilians who led ordinary lives and nothing more. When they left Townsville behind, they left the powers, the celebrations for their achievements, all the prizes, congratulations, good deeds, banners, advertisements, line products for collectors. The day would no longer be saved by The Powerpuff Girls and they would no longer have to deal with villains who literally tried to uproot their-

ᅟᅟThe redhead covered her lips with her hands, but before she could do anything else, something clicked on the door. The heads turned immediately as the entrance door opened slowly and loudly. A strangely familiar face appeared in the crack, the woman peered curiously until she found the four individuals staring at her.

ᅟᅟAn exclamation echoed through the entrance hall, and then the door opened completely, revealing low-heeled shoes and a frilled apron. Blossom felt her face twist into a grimace, but she undid it the moment she recognized the figure standing there. She was a lot thinner than she remembered, her clothes were dirty with what looked like flour and she was modestly holding a serving tray in her hands. For the smell, pie. Of cherries. Blossom felt stupid as a child, because she felt her mouth fill with water when the sweet smell took over the room, driving the nausea away almost immediately.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Mrs. Believe? - Risked Professor, taking a few steps forward. The woman smiled warmly and Bubbles took her face from her hands.

ᅟᅟ— Now, look at you! - The woman left the pie dish on the sideboard at the entrance and quickly approached to wrap the Professor in a hug. It looked _tight_ , but he returned it. - I can't believe... Buttercup! How you grew up! In fact, all of you girls!  
  


ᅟᅟButtercup and Blossom exchanged looks as Mrs. Believe approached Bubbles and enveloped her in yet another tight hug. The blonde, on the other hand, did not seem to mind.

ᅟᅟNancy was different, too. _Aunt Nancy_ , as the girls used to call Mrs. Believe. She always received them with a warm furnace of chocolate chip cookies whenever the sisters visited the Believe home to play with Mike. Her hair was a little shorter than she used to keep, still wavy, but there was a fringe there. Even so, there was still the animation that, in other times, infected the entire Utonium family.  
  


ᅟᅟ— And look at our little Blossom! - She continued, awakening the redhead who now had her face taken between those beautiful icing hands. The girl looked to the side, only to watch Buttercup massaging her cheeks with a scowl on her face, but, before she could say anything, she was pulled into a hug. - Well, not so small now, is it?

ᅟᅟ— Mrs. Believe. - Blossom swallowed, again feeling her face in Nancy's hands. The shock she felt when her body pulled away was strange. She had forgotten how warm and comfortable Mike's mother's hugs were. - It's a pleasure to see you again.

ᅟᅟ— Always so polite! - She pressed her cheeks, Buttercup smiled rogue with her arms crossed in front of her chest. - You really raised your girls very well, John! I can hardly _believe_ how beautiful they are! Oh, and it's true, it's been so many years that we haven't seen each other…

ᅟᅟ— Indeed. - Professor let out a weak and forced laugh, scratching the back of his neck as the mention of his first name made him blush. Bubbles blinked. - How... How did you know we were back?

ᅟᅟ— Well, Mike saw the car in the garage. - Nancy waved her hand in the air, returning to the entrance hall. - I could hardly _believe_ that we would have new new neighbors after all these years... but when I saw John through the window, I felt so happy! You know, the mayor struggled to make sure no one touched this place.  
  


ᅟᅟShe kept repeating that.

ᅟᅟBlossom moistened her lips with her tongue, feeling her throat dry and that strange sensation again. Shortness of breath. She even started to leave the room to get some water, but Nancy was already calling her, approaching in a hurry with the pie dish in her hands.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Can you serve us? You just arrived, you must be hungry! It just came out of the oven, I was unemployed when my Mike told me about the new neighbors! - A laugh followed when Blossom felt the weight of the platter on her hands.  
  


ᅟᅟShe turned, with a forced smile as she left her father and sisters behind. Blossom rummaged through some boxes in the kitchen, finding the plates and cutlery in separate packages. She washed each one before drying and finally served the slices. She should admit that she was relieved and a wave of nostalgia washed over her as she sat in the living room, right on the floor, to eat while Nancy chattered about how things were in Townsville. The firstborn noticed how she seemed to hide some facts.

ᅟᅟSo, the conversation took longer than they expected. Blossom didn't realize that she spent all that time looking away from Mrs. Believe to the door of the laboratory, but when the woman finally left the house, everyone went back to their tasks.

**ᅟᅟHOUSEKEEPING LASTED ALL AFTERNOON**. Everyone disguised well while Nancy was there, but Bubbles was no longer singing and Buttercup looked even more irritated as she dusted the furniture and covered her face to keep from sneezing. Professor didn't dare to return to the laboratory. No one else talked about the scary bloodstain in the underground. Nobody wanted to think about it. Everyone seemed so focused on simply forgetting that, eventually, they also forgot about lunch and only stopped with the whole organization when Buttercup hissed and threw herself on the couch, screaming about how hungry she was.

ᅟᅟBlossom didn't blame her, however. Of course, they weren't done yet and would have to share the bed until the rest of their furniture arrived, but at least there was no more dust or dirt. And when Blossom felt the hot water run down her body that night, relief immediately washed over her. A good shower after a stressful day, as they used to be every day.

ᅟᅟDinner was held in silence. Bubbles didn't seem excited to show all the things she had found that morning, even though the Professor was still trying to please her. Blossom could see a big cardboard box, it looked worn, but she was pretty sure she had old photos. However, for Pink Puff, it was as if that box was advertised with a sign, the words "bad memories, don't open" glowing in colored lights. Buttercup mumbled something about going to sleep, and soon everyone did the same.

ᅟᅟExcept for Blossom. No. Blossom was awake because she couldn't sleep a wink for two seconds. It was not just the image of the dark stain in her father's laboratory that startled her, but the memory of how she had ended up there. And also... everything else. So she wandered around the house. The dark rooms gave her the creeps. She washed the dishes and put the pizza box in the fridge - because everyone seemed too tired to be busy with this more than simple task. She arranged her side in the wardrobe and stacked her boxes of books. She tidied up the room. She organized the tea set and the porcelain tiles in the kitchen cabinets.

ᅟᅟBut none of this made her feel tired or at least sleepy. No, none of that... it was enough to ward off the numbness and strangeness that hurt her chest and caused her breathlessness. Nothing took away the feeling of emptiness, not even watching her sisters in a calm sleep or lying between them as they did when they were five years old. Nothing was enough to make her feel good. Blossom knew she was being too demanding and that it would be another day as soon as it dawned, and that she would probably feel a little better when she woke up - because she still had that stupid hope of really feeling good someday - but nothing relieved all that pain and... that _bitterness_.

ᅟᅟThen she spotted the cloth and the bucket hidden behind the laundry door. The cleaning products were still in the boxes, and Blossom pulled them out with shaking hands. She remembered the previous dawn, and how she felt she was being buried alive, seven feet below the ground, even when she was on a plane thirty thousand feet up in the air. All because it was closer to Townsville there than it could be in Kyoto.

ᅟᅟAnd she cursed herself when she turned on the lab lights and went downstairs, the cold of the night enveloping her like a deadly kiss. Professor still believed that things could be better in America. He should see her now, sneaking in the silence to throw any cleaning product to fix that blood-stain on the carpet. Blossom rubbed it so hard that the nail polish crumbled on her nails and they broke. The odor of death mixed with the cleaning products and Blossom just couldn't let all that distress go.

ᅟᅟThat dawn, two flights of stairs and some closed doors disguised her crying as the salty tears spilled over the carpet stained with her family's blood.


	2. I don't like crowds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Welcome back to Amaranthine!  
> I wanted to start by thanking everyone who read the prologue, it really got me motivated and excited. I would also like to thank you for a brief conversation I had with one of my favorite writers in that community. Writing is a very important thing for me, you're all making me happy. So thank you sooo much!  
> Without further ado, have a good reading!

**‹ ARC 01 ‧ DIVINE VIOLENCE ❜**

**ACT 01;** I don't like crowds.

Because crowds suffocate me.

**ᅟᅟTHREE. THREE. THREE.** He had sweat running down his forehead in agonizing heat. His clothes were soaked and he felt that he could lost consciousness at any second, but he kept working. Each time he moved his hands ... it was like lifting ten tons. But, he continued to follow the sequence. Three quick beeps. Three long beeps. Three quick beeps. Wait. Three quick beeps. Three long beeps. Three quick beeps. Wait.

ᅟᅟThe boy had already lost count of how many times he had done that, but he couldn't give up. It was… impossible. He hadn't known how many days he had been stuck in that dark room, his hands in handcuffs, but finding that old radio gave him some kind of hope. A flare ignited and he started to work to try to fix it. He was not tuned to any radio in the city, but he could hear noise and knew that his radio created some kind of interference. If someone... If someone understood the message, maybe... They could...

ᅟᅟHe heard something creaking quickly hid the radio in his back. He knew he was dehydrated, but those guys hadn't hurt him like they were doing with the others. They had covered all the windows in the room, even outside, so it was impossible to know where it was. He might have a vague idea, but any abandoned and dusty place was exactly the same. And with his broken glasses...

ᅟᅟThe boy saw the thin, blurry figure enter the room. He was always wearing those sunglasses, even at night, and what looked like long, straight dark hair. His skin was ridiculously green, but the guy always talked a few nonsense about when they were done. He said they were going to make some money, left an open can of beans and just left. So, that time, it was no different.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Ya know, kid. - He started, kicking up dust with his boots. - I'm starting to think you're worth nothing. No one has given an answer yet.  
  


ᅟᅟThe boy remained silent, just watching him walk back and forth near the door, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead.  
  


ᅟᅟ— You'll never answer me, do you? - He grunted, but did not approach. - That bastard told us not to hurt you, but... You pissed me off.  
  


ᅟᅟThen he just left, slamming the door behind him. It was as if the whole building was shaking. Some dust fell from the ceiling.

ᅟᅟBut at no time did he stop working.

ᅟᅟThree quick beeps. Three long beeps. Three quick beeps. Wait.

ᅟᅟThree quick beeps.

ᅟᅟThree long beeps.

ᅟᅟThree quick beeps.

 _ᅟᅟWait_.

ᅟᅟ **PROFESSOR SAID HE SHOULD CHANGE THE CARPET**. In the next day, when he woke up and saw that the dark stain hadn't disappeared, but that it now had a big white circle around it, he thought it would be better to just… choose another color for the carpet, rip that one off and put another one - he didn't even ask why his oldest daughter's nails looked so deplorable overnight. But, it seems that John was finding some difficulties to progress in his simple task.

ᅟᅟButtercup snorted when she heard the phone go back on the hook again and another grunt of discontent echoed through the kitchen. The girls were sitting at the table, Bubbles was serving blueberry pancakes to her sisters and her father, but the man seemed more focused on checking numbers in the Townsville phone book. The red pen seemed to fail, out of ink, a plethora of crossed out numbers. Well, people were no longer happy when they heard the surname _Utonium._ Blossom didn't blame them. She couldn't even think of what happened to the city when they left.

ᅟᅟThe redhead winced suddenly, but swallowed another stack of sweet pancakes, feeling strangely satisfied with it. Buttercup, at her side, poked the dough with a fork and spread the honey. She was in a bad mood since Professor had the phone off his face for the first time, four days ago.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Do you want me to help you with your nails, Blossy? - Bubbles asked in her usual sweet tone, but the redhead shook her head. She… didn't want to think about it. She had already removed the cracked enamel, but they were not in good condition.

ᅟᅟ— You don't have to worry about that, I can handle myself. - She captured a blueberry with her fork, forcing a smile to the youngest. - I'll take care of the registration details, you should... I don't know, see how the city has changed. I'll be back at lunch.

ᅟᅟ— _You?_ -Buttercup's eyebrows went up. - It wasn't the Professor who-

ᅟᅟ— I have a job interview today, honey. - He tried to fix the tie around his neck, using the reflection in the microwave to do it. - Well... Three. And two more tomorrow and... another three on Friday.

ᅟᅟBlossom circled the kitchen's island and took John by the shoulders, forcing him to turn to her, so she could help him with the tie. Bubbles left another stack of blueberry pancakes with honey on the counter, probably for the Professor. It had already been five days and he was in that routine of running around looking for any job that accepted him - it seems that his diplomas and numerous awards in the name of science were not enough to end the resentment of the citizens of Townsville - or school, or at least a building store to sell a few damn yards of carpet.

ᅟᅟBlossom tried to spare herself the headache and went back to her pancakes to allow the Professor to eat his own, already with his tie properly arranged. Things were going to be difficult for the next few days. John had a good position at a pharmaceutical company in Kyoto, but they left everything behind in a flash and their funds would not last long. Her last way out would be to use the funds for college if her father didn't get a job soon. So, Blossom already had her own ideas too. Whatever, it wouldn't kill to work in a cafeteria, or library. Yes, a library was the ideal environment.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Don't worry about it. - As if reading his daughters' minds, the Professor adjusted his jacket before starting to devour his pancakes. - We always manage, don't we? We did the same in Japan.

ᅟᅟ— Yeah, but people don't hate us there. - A grunt from Buttercup seemed to cut the sparkle in the blonde's eyes.

ᅟᅟ— People don't hate us, dear. - John ruffled the girl's short dark hair before placing a kiss on her forehead. She didn't even bother to push him away. - They're just... upset.

ᅟᅟ — Sure, because we decided to have a life instead of dying for them after we saved the asses of these ungrateful motherfuckers for years.

ᅟᅟ— _Buttercup_. - Blossom's voice sounded reproachful, though polite. - Language.

ᅟᅟ— Ah, what is it ?! - Her cutlery crashed against the plate in a shrill thud. - We saved the guys, like, a _million_ times! We clean their dirt every day and, at the first opportunity, they shit in our-

ᅟᅟ— _Buttercup_! - Blossom snapped, clutching her fork between her fingers.

ᅟᅟ— Oh, holy fuck, shitty town. - She whispered, getting a sharp look from Blossom.

ᅟᅟ— _Okay, girls!_ \- Professor clapped once and wrung his hands, finishing his pancakes. - I'm leaving now. Come on, Blossom, I'll give you a ride.

ᅟᅟ— Are you sure this won't slow you down? - She blinked as she picked up the empty plates and put them in the sink.

ᅟᅟ— Sure. - John was already leaving a kiss on the forehead of each of his daughters - a second in Butters, clearly prolonged - but he stopped when he reached Blossom.

ᅟᅟ— The documents are already in the folder on the table. - Bubbles finally put aside the frying pan to sit and eat calmly. - Tell them not to look at my 3x4!  
  


ᅟᅟButtercup rolled her eyes, already beginning her speech about how unhappy her younger sister was for being adorable even in a 3x4 and not recognizing that _blessing_ , which was a cue for Professor and Blossom to leave the house as soon as possible.

ᅟᅟSo the car skidded through the streets of Townsville. For the first time, Blossom had been leaving the house since she arrived. Mrs. Believe visited them a few times, talked about Mike, about people, about… _everything_. One thing in particular poked Blossom's mind and scratched her thoughts now and then, so that Utonium found itself thinking about it at random times of the day. At the very least, she was curious. Suddenly, she found herself trapped in countless scenarios where Nancy's revelation took place, always in different ways. Still, none of them looked... and truly fit.

ᅟᅟShe leaned her head against the window while watching the cityscape of Townsville pass by like nothing more than blurs. Tall buildings and happy people. Everyone became more sympathetic when they were at risk of having their houses crushed by giant monsters, at least that was how Blossom liked to think. She remembered civilians who were always on the run to help with what they could, and she liked the idea that they were still there.

ᅟᅟ **WHEN JOHN LEFT HER** at the entrance to Townsville High School with a chaste kiss on her forehead and a whispered “good luck”, all the redhead did was wave and wait for the car to turn the corner before she could get in, her documents separated with of her sisters in a transparent folder inside the bag. She looked at her wristwatch. Almost ten in the morning.

ᅟᅟIt was class time, the corridors were empty and all Blossom could hear was the thump of her heels against the polished floor, overcoming the muffled voices of the teachers. It was... different from Kyoto. No lockers at the entrance to change shoes, no wooden floor or sliding door, no windows in the corridors. When she arrived in Japan, the feeling was almost the same. She felt _lost_ and _far_ from home. The feeling of emptiness hasn't changed, even in all those years. _Life went blank_.

ᅟᅟA heavy sigh, a quick conversation with the secretary, a long wait, and Blossom was already sitting across from Director Dickenson. He was a slight man, his round glasses looked bigger than his face and he was old enough to have a fit due to his baldness - given the number of times he ran his hand over the top of his head, where not even a hair hair resided. He looked like a kind man, although his yellow teeth and his extremely large and clumsy hands bothered Utonium. She felt particularly uncomfortable during their conversation, but she hid the sweat on her hands by sliding it down her jeans.

ᅟᅟThe alleged conversation lasted longer than expected. Organizing her class schedule wasn't a problem, but she had to answer a question form that would say whether or not she would be able to participate in the advanced classes. The correction, made by one of the evaluating professors, passed in a slow and boring way and, at some point, Blossom found herself wondering if things should go that way. The director seemed in a hurry when he applied that test, right there, in his own room. He looked at the girl with such intensity, she felt uncomfortable and limited herself to silence.

ᅟᅟThe rush made her uneasy. Shouldn't there be an exact date for the tests? The advanced classes were supposed to be taken seriously, but it all seemed... to operate in an unconventional way. She shook her head in the air. She preferred to convince herself that it was because they were in the middle of the school year and the arrival of new students at that time was unusual.

ᅟᅟBlossom shrugged her shoulders as she left the director and his appraiser behind in amazement at her high-profile test. She looked at the watch on her wrist as she kept her schedule together with her sisters' in the bag and was startled when she saw the hands. It was... Well, noon. _Lunch time_ . She remembered well saying that morning that she would be back before lunch, but it seems thats he would be late. Blossom pulled her cellphone out of her jeans pocket, choosing to text Bubbles as she crossed the halls. She should just warn you about her delay and nothing more. At least she could go home calmly, without having to disturb the Professor by asking for a ride and, as a bonus, she would have the opportunity to get to know the city better. Many things seemed to have changed, after all. _Many_.

ᅟᅟThe bell's ringing seemed to echo through Blossom's mind and she stopped in the same second, stuck in the hall. Her fingers were no longer searching for her sister's contact, and now the entire space was filled with teenagers. She took a deep breath. Parallel conversations, people didn't even seem to notice the redhead's presence there. In a way, a relief. Blossom put the phone in the bag and grabbed the bag's handles, deciding that it might be a good idea to walk with her head down to the exit and that, if she was lucky, she would be able to avoid all those people on school days.

ᅟᅟShe felt suddenly astonished, with an uncomfortable shortness of breath as her eyes followed the course of her feets. Breathing was difficult, Blossom pulled and blew air out of her mouth as if she had run a marathon. The voices seemed louder and louder, echoing in her mind so that she could no longer process a word. She heard her own breathing in the background, and her chest ached, and that sensation was back. All at once, falling on her head like torrential rain.

ᅟᅟA drop of sweat ran down hier forehead and Blossom hurriedly wiped it off, taking another deep breath as she turned the hall and felt her shoulders collide with other people's. Probably a trail of offense followed, but she was unable to understand what they were saying. A hiss in the back of her mind kept her from hearing things clearly and separating words. Dry mouth. Scratching throat. Heat. Breath failing.

ᅟᅟThe sensation was uncomfortable. Shaking hands tightened on the handles of the bag and the sounds were no more than annoying noises that she was unable to make out. People were like... Blurs. She couldn't really see their faces. They were just strangers, but their faces seemed to be covered with a blurry stain and Blossom was unable to separate her features. It was almost like... if they were being censored.

ᅟᅟThen, everything suddenly stopped. A pair of sharp eyes staring at her.  
  


ᅟᅟ— _Blossom?_

ᅟᅟ **PROFESSOR DRAWED THE TIE KNOT** around his neck. The day was hot and muggy, causing him to put his jacket aside to take a long drink from his water bottle. The cold drink partially cooled him, while he sat on a wooden bench where the shade of a large tree allowed him to escape from the sun. It was still noon, sunshine. He just wanted to rest for a few minutes before going back to his new routine.

ᅟᅟIn fact, it was difficult to say that there was a _routine_ there. He had spent the last three days looking for a job at all companies, but he was out of options, so he would be accepting _anything_ he had available. His three daughters were at home, returning empty-handed again would be a huge disappointment. He didn't mind attending a tire store or fast food.

ᅟᅟHowever, he couldn't deny that he was also angry. Stressed, even. Townsville wasn't being nice and Professor wondered where all the citizens' feeling of partnership had stopped. No, they either thought his back was some kind of joke and hung up on him, or they were irritated by the feeling of bitterness and abandonment and hung up on him. One man even said that they had already filled vacancies when thirteen others were clearly in the waiting room to do the job interview.

ᅟᅟHe ground his teeth as he massaged his temple. This was frustrating in every way possible. What was the problem with those people, anyway?! What had happened so badly in Townsville after they left to be so angry? Didn't he have the right to care about his daughters' lives and well-being? God, they were just _kids_ , he wasn't... he couldn't go on demanding that they put their lives in danger like that. Not all the money in the world would pay... for the lives of his little girls. They were his most precious asset.

ᅟᅟWith a heavy sigh, his shoulders fell and he fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. He knew it would be difficult when he left everything behind. The deal wasn't to risk his girls' lives again and he would never be able to do that, so he agreed to come back, but he didn't think they would drift him for so long. No answer since they arrived in Townsville. Not even a call or a message. Anything. Professor was in the dark and those people didn't seem to care about anything else.

ᅟᅟHe felt so stupid... Of course, that was a stupid joke. _He_ was a joke. What would you say to the girls? "Hey, we were duped, sell your stuff to buy tickets back to Japan." No, it was wrong and the content of that letter... Even Blossom evaluated it. It seemed faithful. The messages in his email box too. They found him with astonishing ease. So, why didn't they say anything else?  
  


ᅟᅟ— I can't believe ... - The low and contained voice filled his ears and Professor looked up, watching the woman standing near the bench. - Jonathan? Are you really...?  
  


ᅟᅟBlue eyes and angelic smile, slightly curious. Professor smiled immediately, as if all his problems had exploded in a rocket into space.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Margaret! - The smile grew on his lips and he pulled his jacket before thrown on the bench. - Come on, sit down. I haven't seen her for so long...

ᅟᅟ— Oh, it's really you! - She gave a shy laugh, but curled up on the bench with her bag on her legs. - I didn't know you came back. Are the girls with you? - Her big eyes turned to Professor with intoxicating curiosity. He shook his head.

ᅟᅟ— They're at home. We… arrived a few days ago, we're still running with some things from the move. But, they're all fine.

ᅟᅟ— It's good to know that. - Margaret still looked uneasy, not to mention... _uncomfortable_. She held the bag tightly between her fingers and looked away every five seconds. - So... How are you?

ᅟᅟ— Good... Good! We're doing well, the girls are excited to see how the city is doing and… I'm in this madness with job interviews- - He gave an exasperated laugh and scratched the back of his neck, realizing that he had said too much and that it was time to shut up the damn mouth. - I mean…

ᅟᅟ— I would like to see the girls again. - Margaret allowed her head to drop to the side and smiled simply. Professor felt something in the pit of his stomach. - It's been so many years... I imagine they've grown a lot, haven't they?

ᅟᅟ— W-Well, yes... - He felt disconcerted for a few seconds, struck by an uncomfortable discomfort. - They're... beautiful. Not because they _are_ my daughters, but they grew up well. Buttercup is great in any sport, Bubbles was part of several social projects and Blossom… you know, she still has the highest marks.

ᅟᅟ— I think nothing has changed, then. - She laughed. - It was so funny to correct their tests... I mean, Buttercup always gave direct answers and Bubbles drew more rabbits than he answered, but Blossom... She was brilliant. I have never seen a ten-year-old girl speak so well about Darwin's theory of evolution in a simple science question.  
  


ᅟᅟProfessor found himself overwhelmed with unparalleled pride and stupid nostalgia at the same time, but Margarete Keane remained in front of him as the one that most caught his attention. It was almost as if she hadn't aged, because her eyes still had the same brightness and her smiles still enveloped him just as she was able to do five years ago.

ᅟᅟHe agreed.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Well, you know, I taught her that. - He cleared his throat. - But, I'm not bragging.  
  


ᅟᅟKeane laughed, pushing him lightly and making his shoulders collide with the contact.  
  


ᅟᅟ— You haven't changed anything, John. - Covering her subtle smile with the back of her hand, Keane looked at him.  
  


ᅟᅟ— You don't either, Maggie. - He didn't laugh, but his smile was so small that it was barely noticeable. Suddenly, Margaret wrung her hands.  
  


ᅟᅟ— But... If you don't mind... - It was her turn to clear her throat. - Why did you come back?  
  


ᅟᅟThe question didn't take him by surprise, but it made him swallow hard. During her visits, Nancy Believe hadn't asked that question because, perhaps, she knew that any answer would be a big lie. An astute woman, so was Nancy. But... the story was different when it came to Margaret Keane. No, John wouldn't be able to lie to her even if he tried. So he pulled on his collar, trying to breathe.  
  


ᅟᅟ— Well, I... We... - He started, but the alarm on his cell phone went off. Saved by the bell. - Oh, no... I'm sorry, Margaret, but... looks like I have to go.

ᅟᅟ— That's a shame, we almost couldn't talk. - She kept her eyes down for a few seconds, wrapping the purse handle between her fingers. She even looked upset. Gently, she slipped the purse strap over her arm and stood up. - Well, I'm not going to arrest you. It was… really good to see you, John. I hope we can see each other more often.

ᅟᅟ— Margaret, wait. - Professor stood up on impulse, his hand was stretched in the air as if he wanted to hold it; but it didn't even come close to touching her. Keane was looking at him over her shoulder. - I... can I have your number? You know... The girls will... they will enjoy seeing you.  
  


ᅟᅟShe spun on her heels, turning to John again. He waited for an answer in silence, but Margaret seemed stuck with something. Suddenly, she started looking for something in her bag and, in a few seconds, she pulled out a phone.  
  


ᅟᅟ— I... I'm not very good with these things. - Another shy laugh, Keane held out her cell phone to him. - Let's change.  
  


ᅟᅟSuddenly, that sounded like a _stupid_ , _adolescent_ idea, but Professor contained his silly smile and handed his own cellphone to Margaret as he took hers. A few more seconds of silence and each device returned to its respective owner. John read the saved contact from his daughters' former teacher, " _Maggie Keane_ " with an emoji from three stacked books. Was she still teaching…?  
  


ᅟᅟ— Right. Uh… do I send you a message? Or I'll call you, that… - He tapped his phone against his fingers, awkwardly. - So... uh... see you.

ᅟᅟ— See you, John. - Margaret held the handles of her purse again, watching him walk awkwardly while waving in exasperation.

ᅟᅟ— See... you, Maggie. - He repeated awkwardly, gathered his jacket and briefcase and turned around.

ᅟᅟ— Hmn, John...? - Keane called to him as she remembered - There's... There's _one_ more thing.

ᅟᅟ **FOUR PLACES AT THE TABLE** , only two of them remained occupied. Bubbles had her hair tied up like two pompoms on top of her head because she thought it was cute, but her expression mixed something like disappointment and discouragement as she peered at her empty plate. Buttercup, at her side, laid her face on her palm while her elbow was resting on the table, staring at the clock on the wall and watching the hands move in an extremely slow and tortuous manner. Every second _hurt_. She shifted her green eyes to the blonde beside her, who remained crestfallen, and sighed.  
  
ᅟᅟThose two were complete idiots. They could at least have warned that they would not arrive for lunch, so they would have already eaten and need not be planted at the dinner table, waiting like two imbeciles for something they knew was not going to happen.  
  
ᅟᅟShe also didn't know what to say. Cheering someone up wasn't her greatest specialty, no matter how easy it was to deal with Bubbles. No, it was out of her reach to lift her little sister's mood, no matter how much she wanted to see that… radiant smile… that didn't contribute to global warming and… Ugh, not even a _fucking_ message! What did Blossom and Professor have in mind? She was starting to feel like she was responsible.  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup pressed her lips together and bit down hard, tapping her fingers against her cheek as she shifted her attention to the living room. The house was quiet without the singing of Bubsy, who had prepared lunch so eagerly that she would'nt eat alone. The food was still warm. Buttercup picked up her plate and started to open the pots. This seemed to alarm the blonde.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What are you doing? - She had a pout on her lips, but didn't stop the older one. - We agreed to wait.  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Bullshit_. - Grunted the brunette, now pouring some potatoes for Bubbles. - You stayed in the kitchen a long time today, you must have spent a lot of energy. In fact, it would be a waste to let it cold. We would have to warm up again and it would be shit.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles wrung her hands over the round skirt of her white dress. Some small blue flowers were drawn on the fabric and only served to make her more adorable, like the hairs that fled from the pompoms and accumulated on the girl's long, thin bangs.  
  
ᅟᅟShe sat down again, eating impatiently. It was good. As always. Bubbles was like a master in the culinary arts and no one would ever deny her skills. That girl had the ability to replicate any recipe so perfectly that it could look even better than the original - even that vegan shitties that always looked like shit looked good in her little sister's hands. Definitely a very useful gift for when Professor wasn't at home, 'cause Buttercup knew how to get by, but nothing was so good, and letting Blossom get close to the kitchen was completely out of the question.  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup grunted as she ate.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— You got the fuck, blonde. Eat before it gets cold.  
  
  
ᅟᅟPink, fluffy cheeks rose when Bubsy smiled, his eyes closed in the process.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Thanks, Butters. - Her angelic little voice filled the kitchen and Buttercup hid her smile with excellence.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Don't thank me. - A murmur, words packed because of the boiled potatoes. - Tsc. _Mochi cheeks._  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh no! No, no, no, no! - She dropped the cutlery on the plate, but all the older did was laugh. - They're not that big, you can't-  
  
ᅟᅟ— They're as soft as two mochis. _This_ is a praise. - She pointed her fork at her, her elbow being propped up on the table again. - You should be grateful for being worthy of my praise.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh, sure. - Bubsy's blue eyes rolled, but she had an almost imperceptible smile. - How could I be so ungrateful? The great Buttercup Utonium saw something good in me, I should feel honored.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Exactly.  
  
ᅟᅟ— This is equivalent to a praise from Kirigaya.  
  
ᅟᅟ— What?!  
  
  
ᅟᅟA hearty laugh escaped Bubbles' lips, her _damn_ lip gloss never escaping his mouth. However, the relaxation wasn't enough to permanently send away the worried face of the blonde, who was now turning her vegetables with her fork again.  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup looked at her sideways, deciding that it would be better for her own mental health to simply ignore the fact that she had just been called a rat - because that was exactly what Kirikaya Akihito represented - and placed her tomato on the youngest's plate.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Do you think we should have gone with her? - The bluish orbs found the green ones and Buttercup snorted.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Of course not. You know how she likes to be alone. - She muttered, suddenly irritated by her perfectly sliced potatoes. - She didn't even have ate with us.  
  
ᅟᅟ— But we never try to have lunch with her either. - Insisted the blonde, clearly sorry for something.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup shook her head. Blossom wasn't exactly the most open person when they were children, but the redhead decided to build the Great Wall of China with armed soldiers every ten strides around her over the years, becoming increasingly cold and impenetrable. Nobody came in. Neither does the Professor. Not her sisters. Nobody. She seemed happier away from her family or anyone else, away from clubs or extracurricular activities and always made it clear that she was more comfortable with that loneliness.  
  
ᅟᅟAs the great _Empress_ should be. Beautiful and gentle, but cold and untouchable. What a hell. Everyone put her on a _damn_ pedestal.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ — Blossom prefers it that way. - He shrugged, returning to eat; in silence this time. - It's just the two of us, Bubsy.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles watched her sister again before sinking her fork into the tomato that she had just left for her. It didn't make things any less lonely.  
  
ᅟᅟ _Never did._

ᅟᅟ **— JESUS, BLOSSOM!** \- He exclaimed as soon as they met alone, reaching for a bottle of water for the redhead. - Your hands are shaking! What happened back there?  
  
  
ᅟᅟNo answer. Blossom was more focused on drinking the cold water and controlling her breathing, almost as if ignoring the tremor in her hands. Small sips, deep sighs. Closed eyes. He needed to calm down, losing his posture in front of people with the potential to be his classmates wasn't a good idea. No, she should get as little attention as possible.  
  
ᅟᅟUtonium leaned against the bench where she was sitting, ignoring the water droplets on her blue jeans before adjusting the collar of her shirt. The air escaped cold from her mouth and Blossom felt her body tighten for a few seconds when she realized that he was about to… release… a cold… She shook her head. She still had a pair of blue eyes on her, which made her blink twice before turning to him.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Thank you, Mike. - Her voice was more subdued, controlled, as if Blossom tried to convey an image that she didn't have while hiding her hands between her knees.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Are you okay? - His hands sank into his pants pockets as discomfort spread across his features. She moved her head up and down in a positive nod.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Yes, it was just... A sudden shortness of breath. - Blossom tried to reassure him, but the expression on Mike's face was uncertain. That was strange. Blossom used to read people very well.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Understand. - Believe was obviously not convinced, but the silence that followed between them while some students surrounded the area was uncomfortable.  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike had taken her to the school's sports court. It was all so… strange and fluid. Blossom definitely didn't remember the moment when Mike took off his coat and covered her head, taking her there in a side, almost brotherly hug, but she pulled the coat off her shoulders to timidly extend it back to its original owner. He picked up the piece in a clearing.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Thanks. - She repeated, now whispering, embarrassed by the fragile and stupid image she had just passed through. - For... For the coat. You know.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It was nothing. - Mike cleared his throat, kicking something invisible.  
  
  
ᅟᅟA few more seconds of uncomfortable silence just between them, since the other students were talking, apparently, without realizing their presence.  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom thought about just getting up and saying goodbye, leaving the path that seemed the most empty or something, but Mike also looked like he wanted to say something - he just didn't know how. Another sip in her water. Blossom just held the bottle between her fingers, her wrists resting on her knees.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— How was the trip? - His voice sounded with a hint of nervousness in the middle, but the redhead tried to ignore it.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Tiring. - The answer came slowly, unable to look at anything other than the floor.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I think so.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThat's all.  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom felt something strange stirring in her stomach, as if, at any moment, she could put out all her breakfast. Definitely. The fact that Mike and she were best friends in childhood might have been the great mystery behind all the strangeness, adding to the fact that Believe practically dropped his friends aside just to get Blossom out of the people-infested corridor.  
Yes, it was strange. It was also frustrating, not being able to talk to the one with whom she exchanged childish and stupid secrets bothered her. However, Blossom was sure that Mike's discomfort was not for the same reason.  
  
ᅟᅟShould... she go, then? She had already thanked he, they were no longer saying anything and remained in the presence of each other in silence for what passed like two minutes. Yes, she should go.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What are you doing here? - Mike paced back and forth, sliding his hand over the back of his neck now or again, or messing with his hair.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I… came to do my registration. And my sisters. My dad is… busy.  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike lifted his chin, staring at the girl as if trying to see his own soul in her pink eyes. His gaze was hot, and suddenly Blossom felt that he was not talking about Townsville High, but about Townsville itself. The thought flashed through her mind and the girl swallowed hard just at the possibility.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— My mom talked about you guys coming back. - Mike cleared his throat, his foot was now resting on the benches in the stands. - She talks about you all the time. It seems like a lie.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Apparently, it isn't. - Blossom scratched her cheek, trying to make her laugh sound natural, but Mike couldn't help but notice how nervous she looked. - Well, I'll... let you go- I have to go now. I don't want to waste your time.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Of course. - He shrugged, staring at the floor. His eyes were full of bitterness, Blossom's chest tightened.  
  
ᅟᅟ— See you later. - A forced smile and a restrained wave, Blossom passed him.  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike spun on his heels, his shoulders hunched as he watched the redhead head forward. She didn't even notice that his presence was more than noticed. Those guys were more interested in the shy movement of their hips where their loose hair flapped, than in their real appearance. Anyone would recognize Blossom Utonium, no matter how much time might have passed. She should be the only person in the world with pink eyes. Big, deadly pink eyes.  
  
ᅟᅟOne of his hands moved away from his trouser pockets and lifted up to his head, sliding through his hair. It was stressful and frustrating. A growl muffled by the conversation of others. Blossom was still distant from the attention it drew, but Mike didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about the things she did.  
  
ᅟᅟ _It's not my problem_ , he thought as he went back to the corridors. _She's lucky it was me._

ᅟᅟ **THE CITY OF TOWNSVILLE**. Blossom had forgotten how different things were there, everyone smiled all the time and the streets were not as crowded as they were in Kyoto. A large concentration of tall, modern buildings in the center, away from residential neighborhoods. It was nostalgic to see how things were, so different but not so unrecognizable.  
  
ᅟᅟIt was exactly what she needed. A slow walk on empty streets to distract the mind. No shoulders hitting hers. No loud conversations, no hype, no... shortness of breath and bitterness. They said that life was happy there, but Blossom knew that life inside Townsville could be terribly depressing. Beautiful days and even better nights, but all she remembered was the feeling of emptiness in her chest.  
  
ᅟᅟYes, that was the city where God in heaven covered them with faith and the Devil in the sea drowned them with hatred. _California, would you marry me?_  
  
ᅟᅟShe noticed the sun turning dark and looked up. Her eyes found three and a half meters of pure white marble and plaster-matte. Blossom blinked, her right hand still held the pink purse strap and she felt the wind ruffle her hair and the collar of her dress shirt with two open buttons. Pink eyes ran over Brick Jojo's raised fist in his glorious, almost heroic pose. He seemed to be shouting orders while Boomer and Butch Jojo followed him in the rear, ready to attack whatever attacked them.  
  
ᅟᅟSo, it _was_ true. Nancy didn't lie when she said that the city had new heroes, although that image didn't go well with the Rowdyruff Boys. And... it was sick to look at. Blossom couldn't say whether she was feeling that way because she knew those boys, or because that was where the monument where she and her sisters used to sit was used. However, it was impossible to look away.  
  
ᅟᅟHer attention went over the boys' faces. The city didn't even bother to remove the statue of the PowerPuff Girs, because those were known traits. The date on the sign indicated the same year they left Townsville. They wasted no time.  
  
ᅟᅟThings should be that way, right? The trio of the Utonium sisters no longer saved the city from machiavellian monsters and villains, they themselves abdicated that position. So why was it painful to look at that statue and know that it had been replaced without any hesitation? They had also done things for those people, right? As Buttercup had emphasized that morning... They saved their lives a million times.  
  
ᅟᅟShe shook her head at herself. Wrong. Those things had happened years ago, the city returned them properly when the heroic image was associated with them. Yes. They were cowards and so they had no reason to keep that monument standing. And Blossom didn't have to think about it, because... because she was no longer a PowerPuff Girl.  
  
ᅟᅟShe turned and continued on her way back home, trying to ignore that big… stark monument built in the center of the city to get the attention of anyone who passed by.  
She had no reason to be bothered. The PowerPuff Girls were no more.

ᅟᅟ **WHEN JOHN CAME HOME THAT AFTERNOON** , he was carrying good news with a particularly contagious smile. Finding his daughters on television, he promised to take them out to dinner. There was a commotion on the part of Bubbles or something. It was undeniable that she was excited to finally be leaving home after spending the past five days busy with the organization because of the move.  
  
ᅟᅟHer sisters understood. Well, not so much, but Buttercup knew that the blonde was used to spending her nights at the karaoke with her friends, and now she couldn't even talk to them without having to stay up all night. So she made an effort to look excited. Not only for her, but for the Professor as well. Man, _that_ smile was huge. The girls speculated among themselves as they dressed, the reason for that smile.  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles tried first. She suggested that the man had a date or something like that. Well, romantic sides. But Buttercup and Blossom agreed with the realistic side and suggested that he had finally been hired by a company in the city. Could Townsville be merciful to cowards, _after all?_  
  
ᅟᅟThe cafeteria bell rang when the four entered. A table beside the window was quickly taken and the blonde couldn't stop talking about how it seemed like an eternity had passed since the last time they had eaten together outside the house. It wasn't exactly a themed cafeteria as Bubbles remembered it happened last time, but it was still fun and there was a colorful menu with various flavors of milkshake.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What is the reason for all this, after all? - Buttercup was unable to contain her curiosity, asking when the waitress left after having placed her orders on the table. Bubbles winced when she dipped a potato chip in the strawberry milkshake, but Professor chose to ignore it while the redhead hadn't even noticed.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Why, I can't go out with my own daughters? - He scoffed and the blonde across the table laughed when he was embarrassed to get his hamburger. How long had it been since Professor had eaten one of those?  
  
ᅟᅟ— We bet ten bucks with Bubbles, she thinks _you_ got a girlfriend. - She smirked, stuffing another potato with milkshake in her mouth. - Blossom and I bet you got a job.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You weren't supposed to tell! - Protested the blonde, who took back her bowl of strawberry milkshake with a random cherry on top and drank. - Just to be clear, Dad, we don't have any problems with any relationship, okay? You're a free man, and we would love to have a stepmother. - She clarified, resting her fingertips on the shiny metal table.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Dude, _shut up_. - Butters rolled her eyes as she laughed; perhaps from her younger sister's despair, or from the shy smile on her father's face. - So, am I going to have to give Bubsy ten bucks or...?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Undo the bets, girls. He sighed, his cheeks slightly pink. - But yes, I got a job.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles' shoulders dropped and she pouted before mouthing the milkshake straw and taking it in silence at Buttercup's laughter. However, it took her only a few seconds to calm down.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— That's great! - Her fist crossed the table and touched Jonathan's shoulder, who flinched briefly. - Congratulations, dad.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You're our pride, Daddy! - Bubbles clapped his hands.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Very funny you two. - Despite the irony, Professor was smiling. - It's a small thing, but it's enough for now. You'll only know later what it is about, I want to surprise my girls. What do you think, Blossom?  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe looks on the table turned to the redhead, but she wasn't paying attention. On the contrary, she was quiet, just watching the movement on the sidewalk. Since she was sitting next to the window, it was not difficult to be distracted, but... Well, Blossom was _never_ distracted. She was so attentive to any topic and seeing it from the air was uncomfortable.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Blossom? - Professor, beside her, rested his hand on the girl's naked shoulder and she turned in the same second.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe redhead's confused eyes roamed her father and sisters' features, she even noticed when a pair of green eyes rolled over before Buttercup threw herself against the back of her seat. She chose to ignore it, turning back to John.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Sorry, what happened?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Dad was talking about getting a job. - Bubbles' eyebrows came together in apprehension. - Didn't you hear anything about our conversation?  
  
  
ᅟᅟAnd there was the queen of the universe who deserved _all_ the attention for herself. Buttercup threw another potato in her mouth, chewing so hard that her teeth crashed into each other. She was literally eating with _hate_. Blossom was so dear and kind that she couldn't be distracted a bit like any other normal person that, my goodness, there is something wrong with the world! _Bullshit_. Pure shit.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Where were you, dear? - John asked in a lower, almost understanding tone, as if he understood anything that might be happening.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Here, don't worry. - Blossom shook her head and smiled. - I'm glad you got a job, Professor. We know how much you were looking forward to it.  
  
ᅟᅟ— We were even worried, _old man._  
  
ᅟᅟ— "O-Old man"...? - That seemed to hurt the Professor's ego, because now he was pressing his hamburger so hard that the sauce was running down his hands and he didn't even notice. - You know... I'm not _that_ old.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Aren't you in your fifties? - Mocked Buttercup, seeing it as the perfect opportunity to change the subject and get out of Blossom's dramatic zone.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I'm _forty-six._ \- Scolded, his hamburger was already dead.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe Utonium family came home early that night, but no soft talk or distraction was able to make Blossom feel less guilty.

ᅟᅟ **BUTCH FELT SOMETHING SHAKING HIM**. He groaned low in frustration, not because he thought he deserved a few more hours of sleep - which, in fact, wasn't a lie - but because something even bigger bothered him. His body was sticking, bathed in sweat. He stared at the ceiling fan slowly turning over his head, but he was surprised when he didn't feel the discomfort in his eyes as usual.  
  
ᅟᅟWell, there was no sun, Butch realized when he looked to the side and saw the dark sky through the window. However, he preferred the blinding California sun to his younger brother's messy blond hair and groggy smile. Another groan, now from the headache mixed with frustration.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hurry up, man. - Boomer whispered. Why the fuck was he whispering? - It's almost dawn already.  
  
ᅟᅟ— And what do I have to do with it? - He buried his face in the pillow and his voice was muffled as a consequence. - Leave me alone, asshole.  
  
ᅟᅟ— We have to go home, bro. - Boomer insisted and Butch looked up instantly.  
  
  
ᅟᅟSuddenly, he understood the reason for not being clear, and for his younger brother to whisper. This wasn't his room, much less his home, and Butch briefly remembered why he was sleeping there without his pants on. At a glance, Ashley's curvy body was covered with nothing but a thin sheet. A playful smile tugged at the corners of the green Rowdy's lips, who had to control himself not to slide his fingers down the sleeping girl's waist line before spreading the sheets with his legs and getting up.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Shit, put on some pants. - Boomer grunted, the girl rolled over in bed.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Shut up, you're going to wake Ashley. - Murmured the elder, walking around the room in search of his own clothes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I'm sure her name is Carly. - The blonde blinked with a mocking smile.  
  
ᅟᅟ— How can you be so sure? - Butch found his underwear hanging in one of the drawers in the… Ashley or Carly dresser? _Whatever_. He just put it on.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBoomer cleared his throat and nodded, drawing attention to the open door of the room they were in. Decorative letters hanging from the wood hidden by the white paint formed the name 'Carly' in a beautiful floral fabric. Butch shrugged. Names weren't important.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What were you doing, anyway? - He picked up his pants from the floor before the malicious gleam in his eyes was noticed by Boomer. - Were you lucky, too?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Yeah, I spent the night playing Dungeons&Dragons with the guys in the basement. - The blonde tried to disguise it with a forced cough, but he noticed that same glow seeping out of his brother's green eyes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— What the _fuck_ , man? - A groan from Carly on the bed indicated that her voice was too loud. - What is it?  
  
ᅟᅟ— It's RPG, Butch.  
  
ᅟᅟ— _RPG_?!  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe youngest boy's blue eyes rolled so much that he thought he would never see again. Butch was still busy jumping up to put on his pants while fighting with Boomer who didn't notice the car parking in the garage. The brothers, in fact, only realized that someone had just arrived when the front door opened and they could hear the loud inquiries about what a fucking mess it was.  
  
ᅟᅟThe two looked at each other. Butch gave up his belt and Boomer reached for the dark shirt that until then had been hanging on the door handle. The brunette even stopped for a second to appreciate the size of the bra that was thrown over the lamp, but his brother pulled him back to reality when he indicated the corridor in a silent gesture. Then, he picked up his shoes and followed him.  
  
ᅟᅟThe house was a mess, as an obvious consequence of the party that had taken place the night before. Ha, Carly and her older brother certainly didn't expect their parents to arrive early in the morning, because now there were a plethora of plastic cups and beer bottles scattered around the place, plus the usual mess of furniture out of place and broken decorative objects . Butch had to hold back a hysterical laugh when he saw shoe marks on the wall.  
  
ᅟᅟThe two of them cowered behind the wall when a man stepped up the edge of the stairs. Boomer held his breath unconsciously, looking over the edge of the wall at what appeared to be Carly's father cursing at his grandchildren's generation for the chaos his children had sponsored. A few seconds of silence. Butch felt something land on his shoulder and blinked a few times, freezing because he thought he had been caught or something. However, Boomer slowly lifted his chin up and saw two slices of pizza glued to the ceiling, a few slices of pepperoni indicating that there should be another slice in that space. When he looked at his brother again, he was biting off a piece of a slice that pepperoni slices were missing.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Dude_. - He whispered, lightly hitting his abdomen with the back of his hand. Butch shrugged, his mouth full.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Free food.  
  
  
ᅟᅟOnce again, the youngest found himself rolling his eyes. He didn't know if having Butch as his brother was some kind of punishment for doing something very bad in his past life or testing to see if he would turn into a murderer who would be famous for killing his own family, but there he was. him, asking heaven for patience.  
  
ᅟᅟWhen the old grub was no longer there, the two floated on the steps, silent to some extent. Its downfall was when Butch bumped into a stack of beer cans and it collapsed completely, drawing the attention of the couple who confiscated the damage in the house. Their feet hit the wooden floor and they ran without looking back.  
  
ᅟᅟBoomer silently thanked his brother for thinking too quickly to stop flying, because he knew they would be caught right away if someone saw them using their powers. Of course, Brick had said the same shit about five hundred times and the guy hated to have to repeat it, but Boomer still believed that he was just "dumber than dumber" because Butch was strong as a closet.  
  
ᅟᅟOn the other hand, it was completely embarrassing to be seen in the street with a guy who was running his pants and sneakers with one hand while worrying about eating a slice of pizza that spent the night stuck to the roof of a unknown. Yeah, that was Butch Jojo, ready to exceed all his expectations by doing even worse than expected.

ᅟᅟ **BRICK REALLY DIDN'T ASK FOR MUTCH** from his brothers, but he was aware of the fact that they weren't able to do the least.  
  
ᅟᅟSo the redhead wasn't surprised when Butch and Boomer burst through the apartment doors, laughing at any shit that might have happened on the way after they spent the night when Brick made it clear that they shouldn't be home late. On the contrary, Brick looked at them, was silent and went back to preparing breakfast.  
  
ᅟᅟThe laughter stopped immediately and the atmosphere became heavy. Boomer swallowed. He knew they had done shit, because Brick had that same hard look that he adopted whenever the brothers definitely did something wrong. And, oh man, Boomer had seen that look so many times that it was even tiring to feel that chill whenever it happened.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I told you to come home early. - The redhead's voice was dragged and hoarse, as if he was about to scold them.  
  
ᅟᅟ— But it's early, big bro. - Butch came over, ruffling Brick's hair as he undid his clumsy bun. - It's six in the morning. _Early as hell_.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBoomer preferred to observe from a distance. In comparison to Butch, who had officially given up trying to close his belt and kept his laces untied, he was still fine with his dark jeans and blue sweatshirt. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a few dark circles and a hairstyle more... messy than usual. But, hey, not bad!  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I'm not kidding, Butch. B- rick hardened his voice even more, casting a sharp look at his brother. He, however, just scoffed. - Damn, you're not able to do the least.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You only say that because you want to be the right one that these assholes expect us to be. - Butch shrugged, filling his mug with coffee.  
  
  
ᅟᅟOh, no, they were starting over...  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I don't want a fucking thing. - The redhead grunted and Boomer knew he would witness a fight early. As if it weren't enough for Brick to be pissed off at the broken TV and the shit Butch got himself into at school, they had disobeyed an order more than simple and now the idiot was mocking. He had a right to be stressed. - But, if you don't want to go back to that joint that the stupid stinky monkey used to call home, you'd better do what I ask, because are those assholes out there that were able to give us a good life. So- what the fuck, is that a slice of pepperoni on your shirt ?! I won't wash your disgusting clothes again.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButch mumbled something that neither of them was able to understand, but Brick's hand found the marble in the sink in a crash that echoed through the apartment when Boomer gave him an uneasy look. However, he was more entertained taking the pepperoni out of his clothes and eating.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What did you say? - Asked, the youngest noticed how he was biting his chin. - I will love to hear you repeat.  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Fuck it._ \- Butch whispered, swallowing his hot coffee. - Whatever, Dad. I'm going to shower now, or do I need permission for that? - With his free hand, he scratched his ear before leaving the kitchen. - What the fuck ...? Fucking fetishist. The guy loves submission, it's not possible.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBrick massaged his temple, containing a growl in his throat.  
  
ᅟᅟHe didn't really ask for much, just a little hygiene and sense, because, until then, Brick had taken care of everything himself. He took care of the bills, and the school affairs, whatever interview shit they had to give or something. He was the one who had been holding the ends since that stupid monkey had kicked in, but Butch was ungrateful as hell not to notice the least.  
  
ᅟᅟThose two were a mess.

ᅟᅟ **WHEN JONATHAN UTONIUM PARKED** in the spot reserved for teachers at Townsville High, his daughters thought he might have been wrong. It was even more confusing when he left the vehicle and walked along the sidewalk, with his briefcases and his smile.  
  
ᅟᅟThey weren't expecting. They definitely had no way of guessing. When Bubbles nudged the Professor and asked about the timing of his interview, he just laughed and let the question fade. Were he… in a good mood? The girls looked at each other for a few seconds, then watched their father's calm steps towards the school building.  
  
ᅟᅟOh man, it was all being too weird and Buttercup just didn't want to think about those things; so she simply followed him, shrugging her shoulders as her leisurely steps cut her way to the entrance doors. Bubbles did no different, but he hurried to catch up with the other two.  
  
ᅟᅟBut Blossom was stagnating in her place, looking at the building as if it were some kind of _death trap_. She remembered only shaking hands and heavy shoulders, breathlessness as if she were alone in front of a 50m tall creature. Not that the environment seemed unpleasant, on the contrary. Light colors paint the walls, surrounded by trees whose leaves bled to the lawn. It was a two-story building, with large windows and countless rooms. She bit her lower lip hard, her slender fingers tightened the straps of her backpack over her shoulders to the point where her knuckles became pale.  
  
ᅟᅟAcross the field, Blossom spotted Mike. He chatted absently with two other people, but at some point he looked at the redhead. She noticed dark bags under Believe's eyes, as if he’s been up all night. His penetrating gaze seemed capable of taking root in Blossom's chest and causing her that discomfort. Then, he was called back by one of the people who accompanied him and the group entered.  
  
ᅟᅟShe took a deep breath before taking the first step, mentally asking the corridors not to be as full as the day before and repeating it like a mantra. Perhaps, God or any other deity had a little mercy - or maybe it was just too early - because few students were scattered through the corridors. She checked her wristwatch just to be sure before pulling the folded post-it into her pocket. Her locker number.  
  
ᅟᅟAnother point that frustrated her was the fact that she hadn't been able to find locker nearby for her and her sisters. Well, it was the middle of the school year, filling with hopes of finding three empty lockers next to each other was a waste of time.  
  
ᅟᅟShe wandered before the bell rang. No early conversations with the director, no guidance from the secretariat. Just... Ugh, Blossom felt like she should stop thinking about it, but things at that school were going completely out of the ordinary. What should she expect? It was Townsville, but she still expected a little more organization. That was an educational institution, after all, so thinking about it was nothing... Goody-Two-Shoes. Just a… recurring thought.  
  
ᅟᅟThe bell rang through the loudspeakers the moment his closet door closed.

ᅟᅟ **AP CLASSES WERE CHALLENGING.** At least, that was what Brick imagined when he signed up for classes. It never crossed his mind that it could give him any credit for college. No, He didn't... He wasn't preparing for the future in the same way as an ordinary high school student. The future, by the way, was already an issue... uncomfortable, perhaps. Jojo used to think they didn't have a future there.  
  
ᅟᅟHe never wanted Townsville, it just happened. The whole… _hero thing._ His mind was a little more ambitious, but he was far from turning to his surreal feats and almost taken from comic books. He didn't want an ordinary life, but he was also not interested in the extraordinary. And he certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his years protecting euphoric civilians from scaly monsters over twenty meters high - Boomer still had a conspiracy theory about Asian food restaurants stocking up on those things, but it was too ridiculous to take seriously.  
  
ᅟᅟSo, at some point, the AP classes became tedious; not because they were not challenging or stimulating, he himself had difficulties in some moments of the matter, even though he was the great genius of Townsville High. They became tedious because Brick stopped seeing a future far from Townsville. Each monster he defeated increased that sense of duty. Every thanks and every interview... Everything made him more and more... unhappy.  
  
ᅟᅟThat city was the Devil's own playground.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick found himself lying on his desk and stared at the empty desks before sinking his face into his arms. He felt tired from the night before. He decided it might be a good idea to patrol alone when his brothers were at a party - emphasizing the fact that Brick, since he started, never told Butch and Boomer about the patrols - but things got out of hand when three different idiots tried rob the same fucking bank. Oh, that was burlesque. Miserable. Completely ridiculous. Dealing with an imbecile bank robber was annoying, but three at once?! Tiring. Idiotic and tiring.  
  
ᅟᅟA groan of frustration was too low for anyone to hear. Brick still had his face hidden in his arms when the bell rang and all the students took their places. He was so busy trying to make his longed-for nap come true he barely felt it. A naughty and intoxicating, practically abusive smell that filled the entire class when the state of a pair of heels echoed through the silence.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick lifted his head. His eyes found two large pink orbs and the redhead looked startled. They had... wait. What did she... She was... What the fuck was she...  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— … Blossom Utonium. We hope that… - Brick was not interested in the welcome that that unsuspecting teacher had to give. Only her name echoed through her mind, it exploded as if it were the contents stuffed inside a particularly small box.  
  
  
ᅟᅟSuddenly, it was as if all the air was pulled from his lungs and Brick felt the cold contact against his skin again. His whole body became heavy, not just from… the feeling, but because it was like his clothes were soaked on a cold night. And Blossom was still there, standing in her stupidly tight jeans and her eyes were slightly wide. His amazement was so charmingly subtle that Brick doubted anyone would have noticed.  
  
ᅟᅟIn fact, he was the first to look away and that seemed to have an effect on Utonium. As he scanned the class with his eyes, the girl quietly thanked the teacher for his welcome, or presentation, or whatever that teacher had done. He could see the discontent of some and the surprise of others.  
  
ᅟᅟIn fact, not everyone was a fan of the PowerPuff Girls. It was difficult to find a single person who still had their products or spoke their names, because the Utonium family simply disappeared from the map and, suddenly, it was as if they never existed. Now, there was what was called "The Commander and the Leader". Just the sight of Blossom standing in front of his class brought Brick a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. He felt he needed some cold water and fresh air.  
  
ᅟᅟA sudden pain captured his chest and Brick felt he could just spontaneously combust at any moment. He still remembered the same pink eyes burning over his figure, but they looked bigger now, outlined by a black line and accompanied by long, attractive lashes.  
  
ᅟᅟShe started to move. She no longer had her eyes on the Rowdy leader, but she seemed to be walking in his direction. What did she think she was doing?! Was she going to him? It was not possible. Brick scratched his eyes, seriously considering the idea that they were just tricks his head was playing, his tired mind sure wanted something fun and decided to create the worst of situations. But then she sat down and Brick realized that she was just... choosing a seat. It was the third in the first row. He watched the rust hair falling over her shoulders and back at the waist, straight as they used to be in childhood, although... they seemed longer. And something was missing there. A red bow. He remembered well that Blossom was always wearing that thing when they were younger, but now the same tie no longer took up any space there.  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom leaned over to leave her bag at her feet and Brick found himself paying attention to the way a smooth rusty waterfall fell over her shoulders again. He moved his head sideways. It was her face sitting in the front, always so dear. So, why didn't she sit in the second chair? Did she know that this was Robin's place? Of course not, Blossom was so lost when she entered the room that he would pay if she knew the names of her classmates. But, if that girl was the same one from years ago, then he didn't doubt that she would pull out a complete file from her colleagues just to know who she was dealing with. If that were the case, would she have chosen that AP even though she knew he was in it? Wait, what was Blossom _Fucking_ Utonium doing in the microeconomics class?  
  
ᅟᅟBrick scanned the room again. Most of the back tables were vacant, because the AP idiots were too starched to just walk away from the teachers. But, why the third wallet in the third row? It was the central row. Okay, it allowed for a bigger view of the slate. But, if there was someone in front of her, she would still need to stretch to look. Maybe… was there a vision problem?  
  
ᅟᅟWait.  
  
ᅟᅟ _What the fuck am I doing?!_

ᅟᅟA cracked slap echoed through the room. Brick buried his now fiery face in his arms again and spent the rest of the lesson.

ᅟᅟ **BUTCH FELT LIKE HE JUST WON THE LOTTERY**. I mean, it was still the second time and they were far from the end of classes, but... Oh, come on, any guy loved a girl... adorable and, I don't know, cute maybe. But, wow, that one was adorably hot. Her long blond hair was tied up in two short pigtails when she passed, childish, but the rest… oh, everything else. She was clearly trying to hide the two works of art that were her breasts, but what is beautiful should be shown - At least that's how Butch thought, because it should be a crime to cover those beauties with such a loose T-shirt.  
  
ᅟᅟBut, it was white.  
  
ᅟᅟButch smirked at his own dirty thoughts and devised his plan. Ah, yeah, that would be great and it was impossible to go wrong, all for a little exposure. She couldn't be mad, right? It would be just an accident, and it is worth mentioning that accidents always happen. Butch once saw a red line in Leader Red's notebook that if anything was to go wrong, it would go wrong. Was it… Mary's law? Fuck it. Everything would go wrong, but no problem! An important woman named Maria used physical education to explain this.  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟThen, a poor guy approached carrying a thermos. Butch didn't think twice about taking it by his hand, claiming it was an emergency. In fact, it was. Life or death. Breasts were important to Butch's health - At least Brick wasn't around to scold him, much less be able to hear his thoughts.  
  
ᅟᅟSlow steps, like someone who wanted nothing, Butch crossed the hall while the girl seemed distracted by her cell phone. A smile outlined her full lips, eyes as blue as the ocean. That would be a good one. Yes, that girl looked like a newbie. Curious to see a new student in the middle of the year, it was almost a rarity at Townsville High, but that view would make it all worthwhile.  
  
ᅟᅟThe girl was getting closer and closer, more and more distracted by whatever she was doing on that phone, her little fingers typing fast. He raised the thermos cup, but did not really look at the girl's face. A few inches down. They were closer. A few more steps. He looked away, as if he were distracted. A bump. Butch just needed a bump and would be in heaven. Two or three steps. The corridors were empty. That would be a great show.  
  
ᅟᅟBut, the sky that he was waiting for quickly turned into hell when the thermal cup escaped from his hands and Jojo realized that it was too hot to be water.  
  
ᅟᅟButch blinked, his skin burning as the boiling coffee dripped down his clothes and not the blonde's white shirt in front of him; the same girl who now looked startled as she alternated those big blue orbs between him and the girl who still had her arm raised over Butch's head, with cold eyes and the cup still dripping with coffee.  
  
ᅟᅟIt took him a few seconds to process. Furious green eyes stared at him as if they could strip his soul and dissolve in sulfuric acid. For a second, it was scary, but soon after, Butch realized that it was he who was covered in coffee and it was his blood's turn to boil.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What the fuck are you doing? - His voice reverberated down the hall, but the expression on the girl's face didn't change.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I'm the one asking. - Tom dragged, hoarse, even _sexy_. The thermos cup flew to the other side and crashed into the cabinets when she came closer. Butch took a step back, his back against the locker. - What do you think you were going to do with that shit, huh? Who knows how to pay a distracted idiot and get the cute girl wet?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Aww, come on Butters, you don't have to be like this... - the blonde tried to ease the situation, holding her by the hands. - I'm fine, see?  
  
  
ᅟᅟHer friend didn't answer. The look was still burning on Butch when he cleared his throat. Dude, she knew. She knew what he was about to do.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I was just walking around, darlin'. - He defended himself, suddenly feeling frightened. Green eyes and dark hair, she was dressed all in black. It vaguely reminded him of a character in that children's dragon movie. - Come here, have they told you that you look like Toothless?  
  
  
ᅟᅟWhat came next was something Butch should have expected, but he had grown accustomed to the image that he and his brothers had created over the past few years. I mean, it had been a long time since he had last been punched by someone who wasn't trying to rob a bank or attack the city. But, hey, that was a good punch. Right. Butch only realized his current situation when he was on the floor, stunned by the pain in his jaw. He massaged the area, slightly impressed. The common strength of ordinary people didn’t used to… hit him that way.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Buttercup! - The blonde's reproachful voice sounded louder as curious looks turned.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButch was still static, but that name made his body just stick in place and he couldn't do anything but hear it echo in his head.  
  
ᅟᅟ _Buttercup._  
  
ᅟᅟDamn impossible! That little girl had been gone for years, and she was all messed up, she never stopped clean because she was always picking on boys and, as a consequence, she spent the day with grated skin and skinned clothes. Oh man! Was that Buttercup Utonium ?! But she was so… That was definitely the kind of ass Butch liked to see. Not speaking like a bloody pervert - as much as he wouldn't deny it if he was accused of being - but that was a real butt, so tight in his jeans that even that ridiculously wide T-shirt couldn't hide. Oh yes, hello Buttercup Utonium.  
  
ᅟᅟWait... So the blonde...  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Bubbles?!_ -Butch cried out suddenly, only then recognizing the sweet smile and blue eyes. Oh no!  
  
  
ᅟᅟThat brat was all skinny and unsalted, annoying to snitch, cried in the corners for any shit reason. How the fuck did she become a busty hottie who looked like she just came out of a Playboy magazine?  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup spent a few confused seconds, but her eyes widened before she rolled them.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Butch. - She grunted. She seemed to be having an epiphany.  
  
  
ᅟᅟOh, so Buttercup remembered...? How not, after all? If it was always Butch who took away her patience in the past. Every single day, he hit her with paper balls and spit catapulted by a thick straw of milkshake, or glued figurines and gum in her hair, or cut the strands - he liked the latter, particularly, but it went wrong when Buttercup decided that would go back to wearing short hair.  
  
ᅟᅟYou see, Buttercup was a tough girl and Butch was a big asshole. He liked challenges and she was the only person as strong as he who always gave in.  
  
ᅟᅟSeeing the expression on Utonium's face was priceless. It was something like disgust and anger, Buttercup didn't disguise that he didn't like it and didn't want to be there. _Why'd you come back, sweetie?_ It was a good question. A great one, actually, because Butch was so eager to see the moment when she found out that she and her sisters had been replaced like old toys for a tantruming child who would pay any price to jump right into that moment.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Boomer. - A fourth voice was present and there he was, leaning unpretentiously in the closet while carrying a dull smile on his face. - You were saying the names, I wanted to be part too.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBoomer was just a cheerful new one. He was the dumbest guy that the dumbest guy, but he still managed to melt the hearts of all the girls with his stupid smile. Butch heard whispers about him being too cute and that's why he melted the hearts of naive little girls. Tsc. Boomer was also fucking naive.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Boom Boom!  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh no…  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Whaaaat_ …?  
  
  
ᅟᅟFrom one second to the next, Bubbles flew into the arms of his younger brother, who stepped away from the cabinets to take her in his arms and spin her around in the air. Beside him, Buttercup massaged her own temple, stressed by the needless display of affection in front of her.  
  
ᅟᅟBut Butch... Shit, man, he was biting himself with envy. First, he caught the girls' attention for being cute, and now he took the hot babe in his arms as if he were a damn stuffed animal. She was laughing as they both turned. Laughing! Butch could have sworn he had seen little shiny flakes in the air that was so sweet, but he couldn't deny that… tsc. He wanted to be in Boomer's place.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Was it that idiot you kept in contact with? - Apparently, Buttercup's bad mood wasn't reserved only for those who tried to spill hot coffee on her little sister - in his defense, Butch had thought it was water.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Don't call him that, Butters! - Bubbles scolded her shortly after walking away from the hug, but not necessarily from Boomer. Her arm was still resting on his shoulders, while he seemed too shy to touch her waist. The damn bastard was blushing!  
  
  
ᅟᅟOnce again, Butch took time to assimilate everything. So, this is what Boomer has been doing awake during the early morning hours. The Green Rowdy could have sworn that bastard stayed up late jerking off while his brothers were sleeping, but he did it better: talking to a big hot girl hiding! Oooh, little Boomer...  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hey, Buttercup. - Boomer waved at her, still ashamed. - I didn't expect you to find my brother before me. And speaking of him... - The blonde leaned to the side, being careful not to get too far from Bubbles, just to face his older brother. - Problems?  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Haha_. - Butch dragged out a forced laugh. - This madwoman attacked me out of nowhere. - He pulled on his soggy shirt as if he wanted to prove his point.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You were going to throw that at my sister! - Buttercup defended herself, pointing an accusing finger at his face.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I wouldn't-  
  
ᅟᅟ— Butch! - Boomer scolded him.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Dude, I _really_ don't-  
  
ᅟᅟ— Not that it would hurt me, but my clothes... - Bubbles smiled a little.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I already said that-  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟ— Just admit it, asshole! - Buttercup hit him on the back of the head.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I thought it was water!  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup smiled contentedly and Boomer shook his head, lifting his hand to Bubbles' shoulder to pull her a little harder against him. He even looked protective.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— So, you were really going to- - The blonde murmured, Bubbles' cheeks burned. Boomer seemed to regret being part of that family. - Come on, Bubsy, I'll accompany you to your class.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Wait. - Buttercup called to them and took a flannel jacket from her backpack. - Use that, Bubbles. Don't fucking forget to button.  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟThe blondie smiled in lovely thanks. No, she was adorable. Even Boomer did, because he covered his lips and coughed when the girl walked away to put on the coat her sister had given her - More than likely, he still had his head down to cover or cover the blush that spread over his cheeks.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Awww_! Thanks, Butters! Bubbles grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek. Buttercup winced. - I love you, you are the best!  
  
ᅟᅟ— Do you like me or the redhead better? - She scoffed, but all he got for an answer was a sarcastic laugh. - See you at lunch, brat. Don't forget.  
  
  
ᅟᅟAnd so Buttercup saw her younger sister walk down the hall with her counterpart, the two of them immersed in some conversation about which classes they would share.  
  
ᅟᅟConfused. What had just happened had been fucking confusing. I mean, how long have they been talking? And how had they managed to contact each other? Why hadn't Boomer said anything?  
  
ᅟᅟHe looked away when he felt Buttercup's hand on his shoulder, and Butch was waiting for her to do anything - anything at all - unless she wiped her coffee-stained fingers in what appeared to be the only clean part of his shirt.  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟ— Fuck you, get out of this! - As if the punch and the coffee hadn't been enough, he had still been slapped on the back of the neck and Buttercup was ready to dirty it even more.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Stay away from my sister, asshole. - It was all she said, half disinterested, half harsh, as if Butch was not worth her time but also a problem.  
  
  
ᅟᅟFor a moment, Butch felt so pissed that his blood could be hotter than the coffee on his clothes. His skin didn't burn because of X, but damn, he could feel the heat. So, he was curious. What the fuck had happened in those years? Buttercup wouldn't deny a fight, she wouldn't seem so disinterested when the opportunity arose to get into a fight, let alone turn her back and leave when someone clearly wanted to fight with her.  
  
ᅟᅟHe massaged his jaw again, where she had punched. It had been strong, but... Somehow, Buttercup still seemed to have contained himself. It was almost as if she was controlling herself not to kill a normal person.  
  
ᅟᅟThen Butch felt pissed off again, even more annoyed by his delay in processing the last five minutes. Five damn minutes. Just five minutes to fuck his clothes, get beaten up by someone who had run away years ago and still be ignored like nothing. Just as she did five years ago, Buttercup was on the run. Yes, she seemed to be running away when she simply turned to do who knows what in any corner of the school.  
  
ᅟᅟHe stood up, feeling the now warm drink running down his clothes as he ignored the attention doubled over him. Butch liked to get attention, but not _that_ type. Since his brothers and he had... you know... become the " _heroes_ " for Townsville, people no longer made fun of him. Not that they did it before, but the crowd let him go through fear or something, and not… respect. Now, however, there was no respect, just curiosity. It had been a good few years since someone messed it up the way Buttercup Utonium had just done.  
  
ᅟᅟButch ran a hand through his hair, tossing the strands back. He left the corridors and floated to the locker room, where there was always a change of clothes because of football. And even after a cold shower and a missed class, Butch still felt like he was submerged in a mug of boiling coffee, drowned in curiosity.

ᅟᅟ **AN ANIMATED TALK** involved Bubbles and Boomer, sitting at the cafeteria table. For them, it was as if time had not passed and Bubbles was more than relieved to know that, at least with him, she wouldn't have to worry about any of the problems that plagued her family.  
  
ᅟᅟThey were really close when they were younger. Bubbles always fled to see him at night and Boomer was doing no different, at least before that... strange approach between Brick and Blossom, who, as if by magic, stopped fighting. So, overnight. Not that it was the Blues' displeasure, because it was really good to be able to spend time together without having to hide. So wearing Boomer's baggy shirts became commonplace for Bubbles at that time, who always forgot her coats - and for some reason, Boomer always remembered to take one with him.  
  
ᅟᅟThe two didn't speak for four years. However, when Bubbles found Boomer's profile on a social network, she didn't think twice and sent a message, which was answered in a few hours with great enthusiasm - God, how could she have forgotten that there was a sixteen hour of difference? Because of that, Bubbles stayed up late so they could talk, and Boomer was no different. That… really made her happy. Perhaps she was the only one among the Utonium sisters who was excited by the news that they would be back, but Boomer made her happy. It was as if talking to him rescued some moment in her childhood when she had had a… life.  
  
ᅟᅟNot that she didn't like how things were in Kyoto, but Townsville was his home. She had been born there, under the sun and facing the sea.  
  
ᅟᅟSo there she was, just showing random pictures to Boomer and talking about how things were on the other side of the world because, apparently, there were no hot springs in Townsville, let alone a park for watching and feeding deer. To be honest, she had become so used to Japanese customs that going to school without a uniform was… strange. Oh, Bubbles _loved_ those uniforms! They were adorable and comfortable, so cute that she felt she could wear them every day.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— So you literally can't sit cross-legged? - Boomer asked, almost feeling guilty about having his legs crossed on the bench.  
  
ᅟᅟ— This is kind of offensive there, people don't like it when their feet point at them. - She agreed, nodding her head. - I never understood the reason... but, many people glared at Blossy until someone spoke to us. - A graceful laugh filled Boomer's ears and he laughed too.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThey were at lunchtime, which resulted in the crowded cafeteria. Boomer was enjoying spending that time with her, as much as they had only shared one class so far - Bubbles texted as if she didn't care about being caught. She was funny on a lovely level, but it was nice to finally be able to see her... after... so long.  
  
ᅟᅟAlso, little magic hands. Oh, _God_ , that girl had amazing hands for cooking! Bubbles decided it might be a good idea to bring lunch for both of them, especially since Boomer always complained in his messages that he wasted almost all of his free time in the cafeteria line. Then, quickly combing through the hours of their classes delivered by Blossom, all it took was one comparison to notice that they had the same lunch time. So she wasted no time and cooked something for them to eat together.  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟThis was... her first meal with her counterpart in five years. She was used to eating with Buttercup, who was always so quiet or acidic. Bubbles remembered cooking Boomer sweet rolls whenever it rained, a small fried dough with sugar and cinnamon. They ate together. He watched her cook. Bubbles wore her father's pink apron and frufrus, there was nothing more adorable to watch than her. They also accompanied the Piledriver ferry, Bubbles wore a raincoat and yellow galoshes while Boomer protected them with a medium umbrella.  
  
ᅟᅟBut… there was an unfortunate afternoon of rain when they didn't accompany the Piledriver ferry, and Bubbles didn't make her sweet rolls anymore. In fact, it kind of sounded like she was leaving. Then, in the early hours of August 4, 2015, the Utonium family left Townsville in silence. They didn't warn anyone. They just left.  
  
ᅟᅟBoomer spent a few years wondering... if it was his fault.  
  
ᅟᅟMaybe it was.  
  
ᅟᅟDefinitely…  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— … And there was also a restaurant that we loved! - He heard Bubbles and it took him out of his thoughts. - It was in Tokyo, so we didn't go as often, but it was themed. From Sailor Moon, can you believe it?! Even Butters liked, and the rolls were pink and full of decorations. Ah, it was my favorite restaurant...  
  
ᅟᅟ- It seems that you had a lot of fun there. - Boomer's hand slid up the back of his neck as he smiled simply at her. - How long would we take to fly to Japan? - He joked, but instead of what he expected, the smile on Bubbles' face faded.  
  
  
ᅟᅟHe blinked, but she just twisted her hands over her thighs. She didn't seem to want to talk about it, ducking her head and avoiding her counterpart's gaze at any cost.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— A-Actually, we don't-  
  
ᅟᅟ— I can't believe you made him lunch too. - A paper bag rested on the table and Boomer could read Buttercup's name written with colored markers and yellow flower designs.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hey, Butters! - Greeted the blonde, with a huge smile - what kind of duality was that? - and the palm of her hand raised. - How's your first day?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Another day, the same shit. - Green eyes rolled as she unpacked her own lunch. Boomer thought to himself that it could have been prepared by Bubbles too. - Your brother's bastard spent the day trying to get me out of my mind. Fix it before I do it myself. - She looked at the Blue Rowdy.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Ugh, he's just... trying to get things back to "normal". - He made quotes with his fingers. - You know. Nobody beats Butch head on, so he just wants... something to be the same again.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup blinked. It was a quick conclusion.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Then tell him to stick that stupid straw in his ass, because it won't happen.  
  
ᅟᅟ— _Butters_!  
  
ᅟᅟ— Straw?  
  
ᅟᅟ— He uses to throw spit balls at.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup stuffed her lunch in her mouth. It looked like a heap of spiced salad and... potatoes. Chips. Which was…  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Butters likes potatoes with salad. - Bubbles leaned over to his counterpart's side, speaking as if reading his thoughts. - She loves strange mixes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— That makes this rabbit food dull at least crunchy! - She countered with a grunt, tearing a few leaves of lettuce as she stuck her fork in them. Poor… poor… lettuce leaves...  
  
ᅟᅟ— It's not rabbit food! - The blonde crossed her arms in protest. - And don't try to quote cute animals in a conversation about food, young lady!  
  
ᅟᅟ— "Young lady"?! Girl, I'm going to use that fork to-  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup suddenly stopped and leaned to the side, a spit-spotted paper ball hit Boomer's forehead across the table. Bubbles showed an exaggerated surprise, but Buttercup looked like she was about to commit a hate crime against what was supposed to be one of the city's heroes.  
  
ᅟᅟA line of swearing and cursing followed Butch's laughter as he sat down with them, next to Buttercup - who made a point of sliding aside before returning to murder her salad with an oval plastic fork. Boomer couldn't say where Bubbles had gotten one of those, but he needed to hear a seven-minute speech about how helpful and cute a "forkspoon" was.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— You want... _Stop_! - The blue rowdy grunted as he wiped his forehead and saw that his older brother was already preparing another ball. - I swear if you throw another one of these, I will make sure your next shower will be shocking.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hey, are you seeing this?! - Butch spread his hands on the table. - I'm being threatened by my little brother.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I hope you die.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Well, that's not cool.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Come on, didn't I tell you to stay away? - Buttercup was still pissed, but Bubbles looked at her as if a question was jumping over her head.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It was an accident! - He defended himself, stealing a sandwich from his brother. - Maria's law, man.  
  
ᅟᅟ— What the fuck are you talking about? - Boomer took his sandwich back, but the older one had already bitten.  
  
ᅟᅟ— "Everything that has to go wrong, will go wrong", something like that.  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟThe silence between them lasted for a few seconds. Bubbles covered her lips with her hand, probably to keep them from noticing that she was laughing - but she failed immediately and bitterly.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What?! You can't say that I'm wrong.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Well. You're wrong. - She pinned the green Puff while the blue Puff tried to comfort his counterpart because he didn't understand what it was about. - It's Murphy's Law, genius. Can't you be stupider than that, you dumb fucking horse?  
  
  
ᅟᅟA frown washed over Butch's face as he rested his hand on his knee and looked around. Brick was sitting next to Julie Smith at a reserved table in the corner of the cafeteria, looking bored as she fussed with her hair and chattered about anything. In a second, he reached into his backpack and picked up a book, starting to read in a second. He paid no attention to his girlfriend.  
  
ᅟᅟHow did people still believe that? How did _Julie_ believe that?  
  
ᅟᅟThen Butch looked around the table and realized something else.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Isn't one of you missing? - He moved his shoulders in a rhetorical dance.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Blossom doesn't have lunch with us. - Buttercup's bitterness dominated the entire cafeteria, but Bubbles' shoulders just dropped and Butch couldn't help but find that… sad. Boomer shot the blonde a worried look at her sudden change of mood.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Blossy doesn't like crowded places very much. - She disguised it well from one second to the next, smiling as if it were nothing. - It's her thing. So, she doesn't have lunch with us.  
  
ᅟᅟ— The Commander and Leader had no problem talking to crowds in the past. - Boomer nibbled on his sandwich.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It turns out that she is no longer the Commander and the Leader. - Buttercup pushed her salad bowl. - So cut the bullshit, she won't be having lunch with us and you two shouldn't be either.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe blonde shrugged his shoulders at the rude way Buttercup was talking about her own sister. He knew that a lot had happened and that was why they were… gone. He just couldn't imagine that… they didn't… more… those things? _I mean, didn't they fight crime?_ Didn't… save people anymore?  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles ate in silence now and Butch moved his head sideways, listless. It only confirmed his suspicions. The reason why Buttercup didn't use all her strength on that punch, and why she held on all morning. But Boomer... he was still... It was hard to think about that. Or believe. They had stopped. They just stopped! It was… weird.  
  
ᅟᅟThose girls saved Townsville more times than he could count.  
  
ᅟᅟHow big was the damage?

ᅟᅟ **BLOSSOM FACED THE BAG** inside her backpack. Her name was written in cursive letter with a pink marker and surrounded by cherry blossoms. It was lovely and Blossom would certainly have thought of praising the work if it didn't make her think. When did Bubbles put that there...? She peered through the contents, finding two pieces of a natural sandwich cut in half and what looked like a glass over a thermos of juice. She wondered if her younger sister had woken up too early to prepare all those things...?  
  
ᅟᅟBubbles also enjoyed preparing lunch in Kyoto. However, she did it the night before and left it in the freezer, since in the morning until lunchtime, it was the right time to defrost. Bubbles could take time to understand some school subjects and stuff, but she was brilliant when it came to cooking. For this reason, she received all the support from her sisters, since the blonde didn't have so many interests for simply thinking that she would not be good at those things. She gave up swimming, the violin - even though Blossom insisted on teaching her from scratch - she didn't even try painting or performing arts. Bubsy was good with people and animals, but she was never able to do anything useful with it.  
  
ᅟᅟThe redhead sighed, picking up her bag before leaving the room. She had already waited a few minutes in the hope that the corridors would eventually empty out. She heard the teacher say that staying inside the room was out of the question, let alone eating there, but it allowed her to stay while other students cleared up their doubts. Now, she walked timidly, finding the most reserved place possible to stay. She didn't even need to approach the cafeteria to know it was crowded, the soccer field was unavailable because of the team's training and the basketball court was occupied by students from other years.  
  
ᅟᅟThen Blossom faced a modest door with an even more modest sign. SHe wasted no time and went inside, closing the door behind her. She felt the walls for the switch, but all she found was a rope attached to the ceiling and so she decided to pull it. The small space lit up, a faint and faint light making the shelves full of chemicals, buckets and old, stained cloths visible. Some mops were attached to a support on the wall. The janitor's closet was… smaller than she expected, but it was enough for her to sit and eat, and so Blossom did.  
  
ᅟᅟSitting on her own legs, she pulled out the bottle and poured the juice into his glass. She unwrapped the sandwiches and started eating one without really being hungry. Blossom took advantage of the silence to pull a book out of her bag, sthat was her distraction during lunch.  
  
ᅟᅟThat should be it. It should be _just_ that. She would be alone, enjoy the lunch that her sister prepared and return alone to her class. But, the door opened. It could just be a mistake or something like that, Blossom would understand the possibility that someone might have missed the door in case he hadn't read the sign, or it could even be the caretaker himself, but the door closed and the person remained there. She shrugged, ready to put her things together and leave the closet if he were the janitor, but she saw the red orbs and felt her body tighten.  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom wasn't sure what she looked like at the time, but she could tell that she was just as confused. Brick stared at her so deeply, his mouth ajar as if he wanted to ask something - maybe the reason if she was eating inside that place - but no sound came out. They just… stared at each other for a few seconds before Jojo let out a clearing.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What are you doing here? - He asked, the words came out slowly from his mouth as if he still chose them carefully.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I just wanted to… read. - She murmured in response, automatically holding the book tighter between her fingers. Blossom noticed that he was also holding a paper bag. - Do you want to lunch? I can leave if you prefer.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThat was a bad idea, Blossom knew. She would probably be wandering around Townsville High, up and down the stairs, entering random rooms until the bell rang again and she was sure she could go to class. Oh, God, how I wish I was selfish at that time, because then I wouldn't have to deal with Brick or anyone else.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— No. - He said only once, but he sounded tired. It looked like he was running from something, too. - You can stay.  
  
  
ᅟᅟSo, Blossom thought Brick would leave. But instead, he took his backpack off his shoulders and sat on the floor, beginning to unwrap his lunch. That upset her. She imagined that Brick was... angry after what happened. She imagined that he would never want to look at her again and went through an acceptance process about losing an important person because he was a coward.  
  
ᅟᅟHis presence was silent. Brick looked at his lunch and nothing else. Blossom felt she should say something.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Brick, I... - She tried and managed to at least capture his attention, because now the red rowdy was staring at her out of the corner of his eyes. - I just wanted to say-  
  
ᅟᅟ— I thought you came here to read. - He released with a sigh, denouncing the reason for his silence. His husky, dragging voice made something wrap around the girl's stomach and she suddenly abandoned her lunch.  
  
ᅟᅟ— ... Right. I'm sorry. - She whispered, embarrassed and... for some reason, wanting to just... she didn't want to stay there anymore.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe process of putting her things back in the backpack has begun. There was no more juice in the silicone cup and she closed the bottle while making a mental note about washing that cup. The bag crumpled back into her backpack and she gently put the book away before getting up and leaving the janitor's closet. She wish she had said something. A farewell, at least. But Brick's voice still sounded tortuous in her mind, reminding her that, _yes_ , he was angry and, _no_ , he didn't want to talk to her.  
  
ᅟᅟLeaving was the best thing to do. Leave Brick alone. However, the moment she opened the door, the bell rang again and she saw the redhead rise behind him. On the other hand, Blossom stopped at the door. It was only a few seconds, but the corridors were completely full again - in exactly the way she always tried to avoid.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Utonium. - Brick called to her and Blossom turned slowly. - What are you doing now?  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟThe redhead blinked, looking at him. Her hand was still resting on the doorknob and she was following that sea of people with her eyes, just wondering if she should follow the flow as if nothing happened or if she should stay there. She took a deep breath, moving away from the door to clear the way for Brick.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— You can go ahead. - A suspicious look fell on him before Rowdy shrugged and thus passed.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom waited two or three minutes. She had time until the next bell rang, but she stayed in that tight closet for as long as she could. Then she left, sneaking around people with shrugged shoulders and downcast eyes until she finally reached her class.  
  
ᅟᅟShe tried to swallow the feeling of being suffocated the moment she sat down and felt her classmate's eyes burning on her back.

ᅟᅟ **ROBIN CAPTURED BLOSSOM'S ATTENTION** during the first class on Friday, involving her in a lively and warm conversation about the Utonium's apparent reasons for returning to Townsville. Brick heard everything from his chair, as much as he seemed completely oblivious to the whispers as he finished his exercise sheet. He was also pissed when he heard Robin whisper, as she sneaked over to Blossom's table, asking if she had already done - because she needed help with one of the exercises - and the redhead simply confirmed it. Because she was obviously lying, after all, it was impossible to solve those calculations so... quickly. But then Brick stood up unpretentiously to throw a crumpled sheet of paper in the trash and saw… that monstrous… and completely organized… thing that was Blossom's question book.  
  
ᅟᅟAw, man, she made his blood boil. He had overheard her talking to her sisters as they passed by her car, just the previous afternoon while they were leaving, who wanted to get as little attention as possible; but on her second day, Blossom answered all the questions asked by the teachers, spoke fluent French during what was supposed to be just training, and still finished a list of fifty physics exercises in half the time. She didn't even seem to think while writing in her notebook, her brain just... worked in the most unusual way possible. Perhaps too fast for anyone to follow.  
  
ᅟᅟIt was then that Brick decided that he would overcome Blossom. And whatever shit she did, he would do better.  
  
ᅟᅟUntil the applied chemistry class arrived and he ran into Jonathan Utonium. That smiling and seemingly kind man, who had already gotten rid of his jacket and now had his shirt sleeves rolled up while he was leaning subtly on his desk and introducing his material - because, sometime in the middle of the year, one of the students exploded the laboratory after making the old professor's life miserable to the point that he gave up his profession and started selling bracelets in a craft store in the city center; now they had a new teacher. Exactly that man. He was the hell itself occupying the body of a slim and extremely intelligent man.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick remembered Professor Utonium well. Too kind and liberal about letting his five-year-old girls go out at night to save too-stupid citizens, but, see, there are some boys getting close to their treasures, _oh no!_ Get these little punks out of the way of the purest, most behaved girls in Townsville! Perhaps the purest little girls from all over the world!  
  
ᅟᅟHe snorted without realizing it, rolling his eyes at his own memories of Jonathan sending him and his brothers almost imperceptible looks that could kill them in some way. It wasn't as if his daughters were holy, but Brick, the moment he entered the room and lost about twenty seconds just staring at John while he was staring back, realized that the guy still thought the same way. And fuck, did those girls even have a life now?!  
  
ᅟᅟThe night before, he had to hear Boomer mumbling and sighing about how cool it was to see the girls again - although he missed any contact with Blossom because she just spent the whole day hiding in classes or in the janitor's closet - and Butch argued alone about they possibly stopped using their powers based on the fact that Buttercup didn’t want to fight him - and some strange shit she said over lunch. Brick didn't want to, he just didn't feel like having to deal with it. To make matters worse, there was still Julie.  
  
ᅟᅟOh, shit, he was so screwed! It wasn't like they had been dating for so long, Julie was even a nice girl and was always around. They've been close since the girl learned that Brick got along with cars, after an unfortunate accident with her convertible in the middle of the road. All he did was empty her tank with a hose and transfer some of the gasoline he had on his own, because, it seemed, she had only been naive to fill up with adulterated fuel and her car choked to a stop. But she was totally grateful and took his number. When Brick saw her laughing with her friends when he crossed the hall, just a day after repairing her car, he knew that girl was a trouble. And yet, things ended up… happening.  
  
ᅟᅟThen, sometime between eight and ten at night, Julie practically broke down the door of the Jojo's house asking why a “disgusting and freckled” redhead came out of the janitor's closet just a few minutes after he did. Brick swore that no one would know that he had had a few minutes in a closet with Blossom, if only because, what kind of stupid stalker stands so long in front of the janitor's closet? And not that it was meant to be a problem or something, but, fuck, they hadn't even talked! It wasn't even five minutes sharing that space! But, well, Julie freaked out in the middle of the night and he needed a long time to calm her down.  
  
ᅟᅟSo after the blonde left - better than she arrived, at least - he still had the added bonus that his brothers were listening to everything and not only made jokes about him being Julie Smith's dog, they also joked about those few minutes with the pink Puff in the janitor's closet; at least until Brick lost patience and threatened his younger brothers with their own sofa in the living room.  
  
ᅟᅟWell, Julie was talking to him. Good.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick sighed at his exercise sheet when he finished the last one and pushed his notebook away, feeling extremely tired. Because, as if that weren't enough, the search for Dexter Morgan, one of the students at Townsville High had disappeared two weeks ago, continued. His parents were concerned and the police were leading the search. Butch was betting that the boy was already dead by that time in the championship, but Brick was pretty sure he had hit the ground running. He was just a kid, after all. Okay, he was too bright for a fourteen-year-old brat and, ironically, he remembered Blossom a little when she was younger, but he had too much pressure on his shoulders. Dexter was the boy genius and Brick heard that his parents were boring as hell with his grades and his college - come on, he had already advanced two school years!  
  
ᅟᅟSo, Brick's theory was that the boy had grown tired and left. At least he and his brothers didn't need to go after a boy who might be using drugs in Citysville now - or killed and thrown into a stream as Butch seemed to _like_ to point out.  
  
ᅟᅟHe looked at Blossom again, who still had Robin on her tail. She was trying to earn credits for college, everyone knew that and were available to help her with the subjects, she should have already told her sad story about her dreams to the redhead. But, Blossom? She was in all the APs of economics and still had enrolled in common subjects. In fact, she was in literally every AP, Brick checked the night before - breaking into the school system is only illegal if you get caught. It was almost as if that girl was begging not to have a life, sinking into studies on purpose so she didn't have to worry about anything else. Brick was upset about it, but he was upset even more by realizing that he was really upset by the fact that his childhood friend was denying any kind of mental health for just a few college credits. And did she need those credits?! Holy shit, even Jonathan himself didn't know how far his daughter was able to go with her superior intellect, Brick remembered hearing him once, when he was eight, saying he didn't know what to expect from Blossom. But, that... _It was bullshit!_  
  
ᅟᅟJojo pulled the cap off his head and slid his hand through his hair, undoing the low ponytail that held the long strands. Thirty minutes to the end of the class. He just wanted to… breathe fresh air and find another place to have lunch, because his attempt to get away from Julie and her fixation for Brick to meet her parents the day before resulted only in more stress - and an uncomfortable silence, by the way.  
  
ᅟᅟHe really didn't understand what had happened the day before. It just… stopped. He should have left on his own, because the thought of being alone with Blossom in a cramped closet terrified him. In contrast, the idea of meeting his girlfriend's parents was wrapping his stomach and he really wanted to eat those potatoes. So, hearing her voice again, calling him by name in the same tone was… a nightmare. A bloody nightmare! Because he didn't want to feel all that shit again! Only Blossom's voice made all his hair stand on end; a sensation that not even Julie's hands were capable of causing.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick felt his forehead hit the table, but he did nothing but knock again. And again. And again. Again. _Again_.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Mr. Jojo? - The voice of Winston O'Leary, the so shy and skinny physics teacher, filled the silence that had dominated the room while Brick seemed to try to smash his desk with his forehead. - It's all right?  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe redhead lifted his chin lazily, eyes downcast as he felt her staring at Robin's side. And that girl, oh, damn Snyder! She would definitely make a joke about his possible delusions or something, and join Believe to, who knows, end the rest of the good humor that was in him. Maybe, disgrace his life or something.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Everything's good. - He replied with a murmur before getting up. - I just need some water.  
  
  
ᅟᅟCutting the silence, Brick advanced out of the class. His hands deep in his jeans pockets, his posture disinterested. He didn't need permits to leave the class because it just wasn't important - if AP classes were about college levels, things should work the same way in the classroom, that's how he thought. And so Brick did, closing the door on his back before being seen free in the hall.  
  
ᅟᅟHe wandered a little, spending a few minutes in the water cooler and a few more trying to cool his head. His attention turned to the cell phone in his pocket, vibrating with the indication that he had a new message. He sighed. It wasn't a hotline but... He felt there was something wrong.

ᅟᅟ **LATE AFTERNOON**. This was the time when everyone left at once, eager to do anything other than study. But for Jonathan Utonium, it was the most tiring time of the day. He used to wait a little longer in the teachers' room, wrapped up a little with the materials before picking up the girls. The other teachers said that Friday afternoons were the worst because they were all looking forward to the weekend, but for him, the worst days would be Wednesday.  
  
ᅟᅟHe stared at the notes in his diary, biting his lower lip and wrinkling his forehead. It had been a while. Well, two weeks. Two weeks since he started teaching those classes, but he still didn't have the attention of his students. The AP classes were an exception and he needed to disguise his pride whenever he saw Blossom's effort, but teaching the Buttercup and Bubbles classroom was a little more ... disheartening. It was not the first time he had tried teaching, but high school was complicated.  
  
ᅟᅟHe watched the hands move on the wall clock and then confirmed it on his own wristwatch. So he started to pack his things. It had been ten minutes since the end of the last period, so he could move on.  
  
ᅟᅟJohn picked up his briefcase and prepared to leave the teachers' room. However, he stopped when he saw the elegant figure of Mrs. Keane standing in front of the door. She nodded and he understood immediately, saying goodbye to his remaining colleagues and leaving the teachers' room without further ado.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Mrs. Keane. - He greeted her, slowing her steps so she could accompany him. - To what do I owe the pleasure?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Mr. Utonium. - The woman smiled gracefully, shrugging as she did so. - I just came by to know about your adaptation process. I heard some praise about you here and there.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It seems that everything is right. Once again, thank you for the nomination. - His voice sounded calm, although he felt slightly shy about mentioning praise. - The students are great.  
  
ᅟᅟ— We already talked about it, you don't need to continue thanking me about it... However, I feel that there is a “but” there. - Margaret dared, looking at him curiously as they went up the stairs.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It's not a big deal, it's just that... - He massaged the back of his neck, wondering if he should or not... Well, Keane was the vice director, of course he needed to tell her. - I'm just having some difficulties in holding the attention of certain classes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I understand. - Her words were followed by a sigh. - Do you remember what you liked as a teenager? All those… alchemy kits and scientific magazines.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe mere mention of his alchemy kits sparked something that had long been ingrained in John's core. Complete nostalgia invaded him and he felt himself float for a moment, when he remembered what it was like to discover new chemical reactions just by playing. It was almost… magical.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— How could I forget? - He sighed. - That's how I fell in love with chemistry. I also remember a certain someone who played me as an “assistant”. - He laughed and Keane accompanied him.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Exactly. - Margaret kept her smile, touched that he simply remembered her in her younger days. They stopped in front of the door of one of the AP classes, but neither of them made a move to enter. Keane joined her hands behind her back again. - Chemical reactions were your object of interest from a young age. It's no different with your students. Just… find out what they like and turn it into science.  
  
  
ᅟᅟJohn smiled at her, although he didn't know exactly what to do with that idea - as much as he was deeply grateful. It might not be that difficult... I mean, he had three teenage daughters at home with the most different tastes. Right. Of course, why not ask them? It couldn't be that complex.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Thank you, Maggie. - Another smile. Margaret felt a sting rise under her skin and blinked, but Utonium didn't seem to notice. Then she just relaxed and shook her head.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You’re welcome, John. - It seems that it awoke something in him and Professor had his face turned an unusual red.  
  
  
ᅟᅟHe opened his mouth, ready to say something, but when he realized, Margaret had already turned on her heels and was walking down the stairs at the end of the hall. All he did was watch her go before moving his head and finally opening the door.  
  
ᅟᅟThe room was empty, except for Blossom, who stood by the window, watching the students as they left the building. She turned when she heard the door open and smiled at her father.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Ready to go, dear? - He asked, his hand still resting on the doorknob when Blossom nodded.  
  
  
ᅟᅟHe watched her pick up her backpack and head for the corridors. There was a certain silence there, indicating that there were not so many students; exactly as Blossom preferred. The two went down the flight of stairs and walked through the space to the exit.  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup and Bubbles were already waiting for them. They were standing in front of the notice board, Bubbles particularly looked more nervous, wringing hiser hands behind her back. But Buttercup had only her arms crossed while she evaluated a poster. Blossom leaned over to spy as they approached.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hey, girls. What are you doing? - Professor ruffled Buttercup's hair, who just grunted.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Are you doing tests for the teams? - Asked the redhead.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Only next semester. - Buttercup shrugged. - Looks like someone needs a guitarist for a garage band.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Are you going to try? J- ohn slid his hand up to her shoulder and she just nodded. - Honey, this is great! I'm sure they'll call you to the band.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup didn't look so confident, but she shrugged again and chose silence. She was still uncomfortable because the only person who sat with her over lunch was Bubbles and, consequently, Boomer. Then Butch came, but he bothered more than anything and they were unable to have a common conversation without half a dozen curses and two dozen offenses. There was no kind of friendship there. Boomer was too... _flamboyant_ , she just had no patience to deal with her counterpart or her sister's counterpart.  
  
ᅟᅟAnd then, there was Brick. The great Brick Jojo, the one who, just as people did with her older sister, was placed on a pedestal, under a strong searchlight and very high round of applause. And just like Blossom, Brick loved to be seen as superior and untouchable, but in a much more naughty way. He didn't even greet them when he came over to speak to his brothers a few times in those two weeks. He just… looked at them with that look of… he was better. And gone. Buttercup would give anything to have an hour of punch with him.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— You, Bubbles? - The eyes turned to the blonde and she moved her head.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It seems that the cheerleader tests won't start until the next semester too... - She sighed in disappointment. - By the way, why did it take so long?  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh, that? - Blossom looked sideways at her father. - Professor was flirting with Mrs. Keane.  
  
  
ᅟᅟJohn locked in place when Bubbles' eyes shone like two stars and Buttercup's eyebrows shot up - however much she had a cynical smile. He had no idea that Blossom had overheard their conversation, but no,.. It wasn't a flirt! And what lack of tact and respect was that ?!  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— It was just an ordinary conversation. - Professor cleared his throat and moved on. - You shouldn't listen behind the door, young lady.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I wasn't. - She shrugged. - You weren't talking exactly low, so I didn't see what I could do.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Does that mean you're going to be together now? - Bubbles put her own hands together and intertwined her fingers, but the gesture only made John choose his shoulders.  
  
  
ᅟᅟButtercup smiled rogue. Professor never had a problem presenting his theses and projects at science conventions attended by renowned inventors and researchers, but it was just saying anything that involved an emotional relationship that didn't concern his daughters and Jonathan Utonium was the most shy man in the world.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Why haven't you been together before, by the way? - Buttercup hit her father's ribs modestly with her elbow. - Or did you guys date and we didn't find out? Huh?  
  
  
ᅟᅟJohn's cheeks took on 30 different shades of pink and red and the girls laughed. One of the girls' greatest pastimes, when younger, was setting up meetings between their father and Mrs. Keane - APM meetings were the best, because they just didn't know how to get close to each other.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— You can stop, girls! - John moved his hands in exasperation. - Mrs. Keane was just asking me about our adaptation here! We're two professionals!  
  
ᅟᅟ— Some kisses are professional too. - Bubbles hummed. - Like the movies.  
  
ᅟᅟ— That's enough, little girl. - Professor messed up her hairstyle, but she just kept laughing.  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟAnd Blossom also had a small smile as she followed her father and sisters towards the parking lot. She was only a few steps away. She was holding the bag's handle because she couldn't keep her idle hands free. Her smile was genuine and subtle. So, it died. It just fell apart the moment she looked away and could see him in the distance.  
  
ᅟᅟBrick was sitting in the front seat of his car, the red body shone in the late afternoon light and he smiled as he put his arm over Julie Smith's shoulders. Blossom remembered her, like... forgetting Julie? Even if she wanted to, Julie wouldn't allow it, after all, her arrogance was... like a refreshing memory of a particularly problematic dinner.  
  
ᅟᅟJulie didn't even try to hide the fact that she didn't like Blossom for a total of zero reasons, but it wasn't like the redhead cared. No... It didn't _really_ bother her. She had already gotten used to the idea that people wouldn't like her and had a vague idea that it could be for the same reason as other people. Still, Blossom still felt her stomach churn whenever she saw her. Her gaze was sharp on the Utonium figure and she was slightly… intimidated.  
  
ᅟᅟIt was no different when Julie joined her lips to Brick's, holding his chin between her fingers and then sliding her hand over his cheek. Blossom felt disconcerted when the blonde started to touch her boyfriend's hair and he backed away immediately. Then she looked sorry and just leaned back against the bench. What was that...?  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What about you, Blossom? - Professor looked at her and only then did Blossom notice that they had stopped a few steps ahead, probably to wait for her. She blinked, confused. - We're talking about how have been the last days. Don't you want to join us?  
  
ᅟᅟ— There, easy! - Buttercup scoffed. - She's competing with that asshole.   
  
ᅟᅟ— I'm not competing with anyone. - She protested, running up to them - without even noticing that a bar with bright red eyes followed her.  
  
ᅟᅟ— They're all talking about it, Blossy. - The blonde gestured with her hands.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I also heard about it in the teachers' room. - John resumed his walk now that they were together again.  
  
ᅟᅟ— That's... nothing. - She whispered, her eyes locked on her own shoes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Well, you kind of competed on Monday during physics class. - Bubbles looked up, remembering the gossip. - Robin told me. She was surprised at the speed with which you two did the calculations on the board.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBlossom immediately remembered the first physics schedule on Monday, when the teacher asked her to solve a problem on the blackboard and Brick simply offered to solve the second. She was just… doing the math. A marker in her hand, writing the numbers at the same time that she reached the results. However, when she looked to the side, she remembered seeing Brick with fire in his eyes and... pff, he was counting some numbers on his fingers. It was adorable.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— It wasn't a competition. - She continued denying when entering the car.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I heard something about the French language and culture class. - Buttercup's eyes rolled. - It seems that nobody managed to accompany you.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Oh, and the macroeconomics class! They said their proposals were great and that Brick was trying to come up with something better.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Looks like I'm in a gossip's nest.  
  
  
ᅟᅟProfessor smiled as he watched them get into the car. At least they had… come back with that energy. Playing with each other and laughing together. It wasn't the same as when they were children, but it must have been something from adolescence, the Professor imagined. After all, he remembered not being very close to people his age at the time, so he felt that any analysis of his daughters would be incorrect.  
  
ᅟᅟHe turned the keys in the ignition and pulled the car out of dead point, then pulled away from the school parking lot.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Hey, turn on the radio. - Asked Buttercup and Blossom reached out to do it in almost the same second.  
  
  
ᅟᅟThe car was filled with strange static. The green puff frowned at the beeps and... long lines. As much as Blossom changed the station, those sounds continued. Bubbles moved uncomfortably in her place.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— They haven't fixed this thing yet? - Asked the brunette, throwing herself on the bench and pulling her backpack onto her lap.  
  
ᅟᅟ— It seems not. - The blonde wrapped a lock of hair in her fingers. - I read that the radios are crazy looking for where this is coming from, but it seems that the signal is blocked...  
  
ᅟᅟ— I think it's been four weeks now. - Professor checked the mirror before stopping at a red light. Everything was silent for a minute.  
  
ᅟᅟ— By the way .. - Blossom sighed, leaning against the window. - Nothing yet?  
  
  
ᅟᅟIt took John a few seconds to understand what his daughter was referring to.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Well no. - He shook his head. - I tried to find the sender, but I got nowhere.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Great. We were deceived. - The brunette snorted in the back seat. - Nice shit.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Butters... - Bubbles whispered, reaching for her sister's hand on the bench. - Relax. It's not so bad.  
  
  
ᅟᅟProfessor looked at the two of them through the rearview mirror and, soon after, looked at Blossom sitting on the front passenger. She looked at the window, her arms remained crossed while she had a hard look.  
  
ᅟᅟSomehow, Blossom looked… _on fire._

ᅟᅟ **MIKE SMACKED THE WINDOWN** pane a few times. He knew it couldn't be a good time, but he held back a heavy breath as he watched Brick roll down the window. Even after hours, he was still sporting his 2009 Dodge Challenger SRT8 - as Mike had already grown tired of hearing. It was flashy red, but Mike would say that the two black lines that drew the hood gave it extra charm - as much as he openly admitted that he wasn't exactly a fan of old models.  
  
ᅟᅟEither way, Believe bent down, resting his arm against the roof of the car and peered inside. Brick was with Julie, but neither of them looked really happy. It looks like the make-out session on the leather bench went wrong or something. He shrugged.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— What do you want? - A hoarse and dragged voice took him out of his thoughts and Mike looked into Jojo's red eyes.  
  
ᅟᅟ— My bad for interrupt, but we need... you know. - He patted the ceiling twice.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBrick just looked at Julie. She... man, she looked pissed. It wasn't as if Believe didn't know the reason, after all, the fact that the PowerpuffG Girls were back became a recurring buzz in the Townsville High halls in the first week, but since the end of the previous week, the subject has simply… changed. And the fact that they said Brick and Blossom would make the perfect couple simply because they were smart, deeply irritated Julie Smith.  
  
ᅟᅟIt was funny to think that people were beginning to see those two people as a couple. The rumors didn't seem to have arrived in Blossom yet, but Brick seemed to hate her with such fervor that it only added to the nitty-gritty. They competed. Or rather, Brick competed with Blossom in anything she did in need of feeling better instead of being passed over. The two solved kilometer calculations with astonishing speed, both were good at sports and seemed to think ahead of any ordinary student and even their AP classmates. They were almost monsters. Brick went to the ridiculous point of trying to read faster than she did in an English class. She completed Machiavelli in forty minutes. Brick finished in _forty-two_.  
  
ᅟᅟJulie left the car in silence; or almost, since her heavy steps thudded the asphalt, with her brand new stiletto heels that seemed capable of creating craters on any surface - funny that Julie had never bothered wearing heels until then. Mike went around and in the vehicle and sat on the front passenger.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— Watch the bank. - It sounded more like an order for Believe to keep her filthy All Star away from the leather bench. He shrugged.  
  
ᅟᅟ— You fought? - He slammed the door on purpose and suddenly the air seemed to get warmer. Not that he cared about that pretentious bitch or anything, everyone knew that that "relationship" only worked on one side and that was why Julie was always so angry.  
  
  
ᅟᅟWell, Julie knew it herself. Her car trap worked for a while, as he heard Robin quote, always amid the laughter of someone who was already high, how ridiculous the whole situation was. Was Brick _really_ a genius or what?  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟ— Straight to the point, Believe. - Brick tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. - What do you have for me?  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike stopped for a few seconds and leaned against the bench. He thought deeply about what he could say, but it was difficult to form a coherent sentence when he couldn't even organize his thoughts. Everything was a huge, endless mess, as if a hurricane had crossed his mind after an 8.0 magnitude earthquake, so... Well, it was all very confusing.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I don't know what to say. - He shook his head. - But, everything is very strange.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Strange? How? - The redhead raised his eyebrows.  
  
ᅟᅟ— As if the chaos itself was stirring ... - Mike sighed for a second, moving his feet, uneasy. - Something bubbling from the inside out. It feels uncomfortable.  
  
ᅟᅟ— This is gastritis for me. - Brick shrugged and Mike groaned at his side.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Look. Fuck you. - He hissed. - I went through the damn campus after having a nosebleed and putting up with Robin wanting to shave my head to call me Eleven, so eat shit and die.  
  
ᅟᅟ— That's rough, buddy. - Two pats on Mike's shoulder. - What did you saw, Believe?  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike moved his head sideways and ruffled his own hair. He squinted, trying to remember, but it was just… disconnected fragments. A hiss that only got louder. An unbearable headache.  
  
ᅟᅟ  
ᅟᅟ— Ugh, I don't know! I just… it's just strange images. - He grunted, resting his elbows against his knees and hiding his face in his hands. - There's a lot of messy shit, fucking blood, fire and... oh shit, it's all going to end in fire.  
  
ᅟᅟ— Yeah. Global warming. You're late.  
  
ᅟᅟ— I hope you die as slowly and as painfully as possible.  
  
  
ᅟᅟBrick clicked his tongue. He knew how difficult it was for Mike to focus on those visions, many of them disturbing. So, he just tried to give Believe a little space, but... Townsville was also in a weird shit situation and they didn't have time to wait. There was another disappearance. Kidnapping. Whatever.  
  
  
ᅟᅟ— I'll call my brothers. - He murmured before turning the keys in the ignition. - We'll have to make that move.  
  
  
ᅟᅟMike just kept silent. He stared at the red All Star on his feet, but his gaze was hard. Below his eyes, the usual dark bags were present as he struggled with impending fatigue.  
  
ᅟᅟAs much as he didn't like the idea, he knew it was inevitable to make that contact. Mike was always avoiding sleep and left the lights on so he didn't have to deal with everything that was hidden in the darkness. It was a long and tortuous path he had to take to keep from freaking out, but since his first agreement, Believe knew that things would be that way. He just... He didn't want to believe it - which was a fucking unintentional fucking pun.  
  
ᅟᅟRecurring nightmares and visions of freezing blood. Mike always knew that if his mind was able to relate all those images, his own integrity would be at stake. Fortunately, he was lost on a placid island of ignorance, where only what he accepted entered. So, when Brick advanced beyond the terrain of Townsville High, Believe tried to figure out how that pair of hands rested on the asphalt while the blood continued to drip and stain everything and tried to focus on what was to come:  
  
 _ᅟᅟA long conversation with an old friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that, in the original planning of the first arc, this chapter would end in a completely different and tense way, but some changes were necessary haha~  
> I want to remind you that I created an Instagram account dedicated exclusively to Amaranthine (@/zetswbo), where I'll post things involving the universe of fanfic, scenarios and these things. It's not necessary to follow the account! It's just a way for me to organize myself and imagine the scenes better, with images and everything.  
> Thank you for your time and availability to read this fanfic. If you feel comfortable, leave a comment. See ya ~

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had a good read. Again, I apologize for any spelling mistakes. Please leave a comment if you liked the writing.  
> Thank you for your time! :)  
> In case of any doubt, send me a DM on Instagram (@/zetswbo)  
> See ya :)


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